I Like My Lembas Soft In The Morning
by thearrowsoflegolas
Summary: The Hobbit. (Legolas/reader) Whilst travelling through the Mirkwood Forest with Thorin and his company, you are ambushed by elves. You initially hate the creatures, especially the king's son, with his demeaning expressions, superiority complex and infuriatingly perfect shoulder to waist ratio. As you travel to the misty mountain, you can't help but feel strangely drawn to him.
1. An Unfortunate Meeting

"(YOUR NAME)", shouted Kili loudly, and you spun around to see a giant spider right behind you, its fangs dangerously close to your shoulder.

You grasped your sword tightly, and with all your strength, drove it as hard as you could into the beast's belly. It was impaled to the hilt, and thick, black sticky blood coated your tunic and hands. The creature writhed and screeched, its piercing wail filling the night air, then fell silent and slumped to the ground at your feet, dead. You removed your sword, and spun around again, looking for your next attack.

"Nice one!" shouted Fili, looking at you as he thrust his small dagger into one of a spider's many eyes.

"Thanks," you grunted in response, before leaping onto a nearby rock and hurling one of your throwing knives at an arachnid that was on its way to eat Thorin alive.

The blade buried itself deep into the creature's back, and with a blood-curdling screech, it slumped to the ground, joining its many dead relatives. Thorin's eyes strayed to the dagger in its back, then looked intently at you.

A small nod of recognition.

You weren't expecting flowers, but even a 'thank you' would have been nice from the dwarfish king. Oh well, you knew he wasn't the most gracious of people, and you, being as you were, not a dwarf, were not on his favourites list. He had barely agreed to let you come with him on this quest, but eventually, Gandalf's assurance that your skill with knives were unparalleled convinced him. You grabbed another knife from your belt and turned around again, ready for the next one, but you were to late. The creature fell, a smooth, intricate arrow sticking from its forehead.

An arrow? You looked at Kili, the only archer in the group, but he returned your gaze with a confused one of his own.

"Not mine!" he shouted, then swore loudly as an arrow whisked past his ear and impaled itself into another spider.

"Lower your weapons!" shouted a smooth, authoritative voice, and from the darkness of the forest, countless tall, slim figures emerged from the trees, cloaked in silver and green.

The spiders roared, and closed in on their attackers, but they were swiftly killed by swift, sharp bows, and the ones that remained quickly fled back into their dark, shadowy nests. Before you had a chance to question what was going on, you felt a small, sharp dagger digging into your throat. You froze.

"Drop your weapon," a smooth voice muttered into your ear, digging the knife deeper, drawing specks of blood from your exposed neck. Fearing for your life, you took a deep breath, and quickly jabbed the man behind you in the stomach with your elbow, then gave him a swift backfist into his groin, earning a pained grunt, and your freedom. You belted forwards, leaving him behind you bent double, and grabbed your sword from your belt.

"One more move and you die," came a female voice, and you slowly turned to see a she-elf with long red hair pointing her bow strait at your chest. Elves. Goddamit.

You were trapped.

You sighed, and let your knife fall to floor, hearing the dull thud of metal on grass. The weapons of your dwarf companions quickly joined it, as they made the executive decision not to die. The elf that you had attacked strode toward you, almost catlike. His long blonde hair was twisted into an extravagant style, with tiny plaits running from his forehead to the back of his scalp. A longbow was clutched tightly in one of his hands, and a mean-looking sword in the other. He didn't look like the kind of guy you wanted to piss off.

"My name is Legolas, son of Thranduil, prince of Mirkwood." he stated, looking down at you from his position of power.

Prince?

"Shit," you said simply, the word escaping your mouth before you could reign it in. Of all of the elves in the brigade, you had to attack the King's son, didn't you? Typical.

Legolas' left lip curledup in a sneer at your reaction, guessing your train of thought.

"I have given you my name, dwarf." he said, stepping back, and looking around at your companions before bringing his gaze back you, "Now it's your turn to give me yours."

You heard a small chuckle next to you, and glared at Kili and Fili, who were attempting to hide their giggles with coughs. They knew your hatred of constantly being mistaken for a dwarf. You had always been on the short side, but seriously?

"Excuse me?" you said scathingly, looking Legolas in the eyes, "I've heard that the Mirkwood elves aren't exactly the 'sharpest arrows in the quiver', but HONESTLY? You think I'm a dwarf?"

Legolas stuttered, as chuckles came from the group. They were used to your annoyance at situations like this.

"I mean COME ON!" you complained, rolling your eyes, "The complete lack of beard is a bit of a clue, surely..."

"I meant you no offence..." started Legolas, forgetting his position of power in his surprise at your response "I just assumed..."

"(Your name)," you said, cutting him off, "human."

"More like dragon," muttered Ori next to you, and you elbowed him in the ribs, drawing a muffled 'oof'.

"Follow me," said Legolas, quickly regaining his composure, "I'm sure my father would be interested in seeing this company..."

* * *

You felt an arrow pointing into your back, and sighed, begrudgingly following your friends in the direction that the elves was walking, bracing yourself before meeting Thranduil, King of Mirkwood.

"Move," came a gruff voice from behind you, and you were jabbed sharply in the back by a pointed sword, pushing you forwards.

You bit your tongue in an attempt to prevent yourself from advising the elf behind you where he could stick his sword, and simply stared forward and continued walking.

Legolas, the elf you had so gracefully managed to backfist in the groin about an hour ago, walked not too far ahead of you, occasionally looking back to check you were still there. You seemed to have given him the impression that you were a live wire. No idea where he got that from.

"We are here," he said in a smooth voice, gesturing towards a large, towering structure ahead of you.

You couldn't help yourself, you gasped in awe. You had heard that Mirkwood was large, but never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that it would be this monstrous size. The elf prince looked back at you again, his lips twitching as he took in your amazed expression. You looked around the group, and saw that your amazement was mirrored on everyone's faces. Even Thorin, not exactly the king of showing his feelings, had slightly widened eyes and a partly open mouth as he took in the beauty and craftsmanship of the colossal monument in front of him.

You spun around, looking for Bilbo, he small Hobbit who had joined you on your journey. As a creature who had spent his whole life in the Shire, you couldn't imagine how excited he would be to see the halls of an elven King, even if the circumstances were less than ideal.

You looked around again, confusion on your face. Leaning down to Kili, who was walking next to you, you whispered, out of earshot of the guards, "Where's Bilbo?"

Kili's heavy brow creased as he copied you and looked around your party, then returned your gaze with a shrug and a worried expression.

Where the hell had that Hobbit gone to?

You were led at swordpoint through the tall doors into the halls of Mirkwood. As your eyes became accustomed to the darkness, you began to notice how intricately it was designed.

The winding paths snaked from every floor and twisted their ways expertly through each other, each one leading to a different place. You allowed yourself to peek over the edge of the level that you were standing on, and instantly jumped back, heart beating fast. You couldn't even see how far down it went, but suffice to say it was a very long drop.

"I guess you won't be trying any daring escapes in here," came a low voice from behind your shoulder. It took you totally by surprise, and you gasped, letting out a curse and spinning around, hand grasping for your sword, and coming face to face again with Legolas. Was this guy ever going to leave you alone?

"Shit," you breathed out, and the elf before you broke into a sly smile.

"You seem to be saying that an awful lot to me today," he smirked, noticing how your hand lay where the top of your sword would be, even though your weapon was still somewhere on the floor in the middle of a forest.

"People might begin to think you don't like me," he continued, his distaste for you abundantly clear, placing his long knife back in the scabbard on his back

"Where on earth would they get that idea from?" you mumbled sarcastically, earning another smug expression from the elven prince.

"Keep going," came a voice from behind you, and you and the dwarves were bundled forward through many twisting paths and walkways. You made sure to stay well away from the edges, knowing that a small slip would cause you to fall to your untimely death.

At last, you reached your destination. You looked around you, still in awe at the grandeur of the area, before your eyes fell on what could only be King Thranduil. His robes were extravagant, golden and silver with ruby thread. He was sitting on a large throne, and perched atop his sleek blonde hair was a crown made of twisted branches.

"May I introduce King Thranduil," said a guard, still pointing his arrow directly at you.

King Thranduil? Legolas' father? You guessed you could see the family resemblance. Long straight blonde hair and strong eyebrows over bright blue eyes obviously ran in this family.

The king stood up, revealing his impressive height, he must have been at least six three, and walked towards your group.

"Intruders?" he asked, a side of his mouth turning up in a sly smile, "And all dwarves, I see..."

You sighed loudly, and heard a chuckle from your left. You turned around to see Legolas fighting back a smile. He seemed to understand the dwarf situation.

Thranduil looked at you, his eyes quizzical.

"Have I offended you in some way, dwarf?" he asked, smirking as if the notion of dwarves having feelings was completely ridiculous.

"Dwarf." you said simply, "I'm not a bloody dwarf, I'm just short..."

"How dare you speak to the king with such disrespect!" roared a guard, pointing his sword at your chest.

"Lower your weapon," ordered Thranduil, studying you with detached curiosity, "You're a fiery one."

"If you so much as touch her I will not hesitate to kill you," came a gruff voice, and you froze in shock and surprise as Thorin stood in front of you protectively, guarding your body with his much wider one. Throughout your journey you had never had so much as a 'well done' from the Dwarvish King, so an act of such caring was completely unexpected.

Thranduil stepped back, amused, and took his place one again on his throne.

"Thorin Oakenshield," he said smoothly, "I have heard much about you,"

"And I, you," replied Thorin curtly, still hiding you from sight.

"Guards," called Thranduil lazily, snapping his fingers. The surrounding elves instantly stood to attention.

"Take the prisoners away," he continued, then turned to look at Thorin, "Apart from this one, I wish to speak with him alone."

You were once again bundled around and marched out of the area. You turned your head to see Thorin, standing proud, being towered over by the tall elf.

A warm hand gripped your bicep, and you looked up into the eyes of Legolas.

"I am sorry," he said earnestly, "I wish there was some other way. My father is strict, but that does not answer for his behaviour. I would never dream of locking a woman up..."

"Hey," you said back, your face annoyed,"Less of the 'woman'?"

"I... I don't understand..."

"Just because I'm female, it doesn't mean you have to treat me any differently than anyone else. I'm a fighter, I'm a warrior. I've killed as many people as these dwarves plus some more. Don't make the mistake of underestimating me."

To your surprise, Legolas grinned, his eyebrows raising at your unexpected outburst.

"You really are quite something," he mused, as you were roughly shoved into a cell and the door was slammed in your face.

The guards walked off. Legolas held your gaze for a moment, then followed them into the darkness.


	2. Midnight Conversations

It was well into the night when Thorin was finally led back to the cells, his face grim and his shoulders stooped. You remembered how he had stood up for you in the presence of King Thranduil, and got up from your hard wooden bench, walking to your cell door and grabbing the bars, trying to make eye contact with him.

He met your gaze, and you nodded at him in thanks, and saw the corner of his lip rise in a sort-of-smile, as he nodded back at you, his eyes soft. You sat back down on the stony bench and put your head in your hands. Thorin Oakenshield had just smiled at you, which was basically a massive embrace in his terms. You couldn't even remember the last time he spoke to you, let alone tried to save your life. Either he had suddenly developed very strong feelings for you, or he hated the elf King so much he was willing to risk his life to spite him. You guessed the latter. Thorin wasn't a big fan of feelings.

Hearing muffled talking from a cell beside you, you stood up again and quietly tiptoed towards the cell door, trying not to disturb the conversation.

"I could have anything down my trousers..." said Kili, and you could practically see the cheeky glint in his eye.

"Or nothing," responded a smooth female voice, making Kili chuckle.

You didn't recognize the voice, and peeked around your cell wall, your eyes widening as you saw the red-haired elf deep in conversation with your dwarvish friend. A small smile crossed your lips. You could always count on Kili to try to get into the pants of women in any situation, even if they belonged to a race that your ancestors hated with a deep passion.

You sighed and sat back down, and eventually the dull tones of their conversation faded, as the she-elf left and the cells were once again plunged into silence.

Feeling your eyes grow heavy, you nodded your head and closed your eyes. You might as well get some sleep whilst you could.

"Are you well?" a voice whispered, immediately bringing you out of your light sleep.

Years of fighting and battle-reflexes brought you to your feet almost instantly, your hand grazing where your sword should have been.

Heart in your throat and breath coming fast, you turned around, your eyes widening as you took in the sight of Legolas, the elf prince, standing in front of the bars of your door, looking at your state of dishevelled panic with some amusement.

"I hope I didn't startle you," he said, a twinkle in his eyes giving away his good-natured humour, "I only wished to check up on you."

"Shit," you breathed back, heart still hammering.

Legolas smiled, remembering your affiliation with that word, and gestured towards the small stone bench in your cell.

"Please," he said, blue eyes sparkling in the dark shadows, "Take a seat,"

"Well, as you asked so kindly..."

You cautiously said down, and to your surprise, so did he. There was a small set of steps just outside your cell door, and Legolas perched on one of them, looking very un-princelike.

"I'll repeat my earlier question," he began, looking you in the eyes, "Are you well? You're not hurt?"

The questions rang out in the silence of the halls, but there was no sound from the cells around you, suggesting that the rest of the dwarves were fast asleep.

"A couple of bumps and bruises, nothing serious," you replied, looking at him reproachfully. Just because he seemed friendly, that didn't mean you were going to forgive him that quickly. I mean, the guy had locked you up in a cellar for crying out loud...

A look of worry crossed his face as he heard your response, and he leaned forwards, his brows knotting in concern.

"They were rough with you." he said it as a statement, not a question.

"God," you sighed, running your hands through your hair, "Why does everybody assume I need protecting all of a sudden?"

Legolas smiled at that and caught your eye again.

"You fascinate me...," he said simply.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, not concealing that you were surprised by his answer.

"You're very different from most women I've met," he mused, absent-mindedly rubbing a strand of his long, blonde hair.

"Tauriel, for example"

"The ginger?" you cut in, she was the only female elf you had seen since entering Mirkwood.

Legolas smiled at your mannerisms, "Yes," he replied, "The ginger."

"She may fight, but she holds herself with a certain feminine grace, which you seem to lack..."

"Charming..." you muttered under your breath.

"I watched you fight those spiders in the forest," Legolas continued, unaware of your interruptions, "And your fighting style is extraordinary. You can throw knives with expert precision, and you appear to have no trouble getting your hands dirty..."

He gestured to your tunic, which was still coated in spider blood.

"I find it strange..."

"Let me out of this cell and I'll show you more where that came from," you said with a smirk.

He rolled his eyes.

"Nice try," he said, getting up to leave.

"No, wait! Don't leave!" you urged, "When am I getting out of here?"

He turned around and smiled cryptically, before imperceptibly shaking his head and turning his back to you.

And with that he walked off into the shadows, leaving you again with nothing but darkness and snoring dwarves for company.

* * *

"Breakfast!" shouted a loud voice, jolting you out of your light sleep.

The bright sun caused you to squint your eyes, and the grumblings of many disgruntled dwarves filled the halls. A light shiver ran through your body, and you hugged your arms closer to yourself, trying to conserve heat.

"Eat up," said a tall, brown haired elf, throwing a lump of square bread through the bars of your cell and giving you a smug smile.

Gah. You hated elves.

Your mind wandered back to last night, and the conversations that had passed between you and the price of Mirkwood. The jokes and the teasing, but also the way that he seemed to truly care about whether you were hurt.

Well, you hated most elves, anyway...

Glancing suspiciously at the square of crisp bread you had been thrown, you cautiously brought it to your nose and inhaled deeply. You couldn't smell anything on it, but in past experience, you knew that didn't always guarantee safety. You had been drugged many times by undetectable poisons. And what even was this type of bread anyway? It was unlike anything you had ever seen. You turned it over in your hands to examine the other side of it, but it was much the same.

A loud crunch from your side caused you to look up in shock and surprise, and your eyes widened as you saw Legolas, sitting on the same step as let night, a half-eaten square of elvish bread in his slender fingers.

"It's called Lembas," he said, gesturing to the food in your hand, "Elvish bread. And it's clean, trust me."

"Shouldn't you be off doing princey stuff," you asked him, biting into a corner of your bread warily, "You know, having balls and meeting princesses and suchlike..."

He chuckled at that, and smiled at you, "I've never been much of a dancer," he admitted.

"And honestly, most of the princesses I've met are incredibly dull..."

"So what do you do all day?" you enquired, noticing that you hadn't keeled over yet and taking that as encouragement that the bread was safe.

"Mostly I hunt," he replied, dusting his hands on the knees of his trousers, "Those spiders you fought. They are rife in our forests and I must do all I can to rid us of them."

"So THAT'S why you found us," you mused, remembering how the elves had popped up out of nowhere in the Mirkwood forest.

"Yes. We were on a patrol when we heard shouts, so our company diverted to adress the problem. Then we found a band of dwarfish trespassers."

"Not a dwarf." you replied, pointing to yourself and earning a small smile from Legolas as he remembered.

"Of course," he remedied, a twinkle in his eye, "As you keep telling me."

You were interrupted as a large elvish guard came up to your cell and unlocked the door. You immediately jumped to the balls of your feet, you fists forming a guard stance in front of your face.

"What is the meaning of this?" asked Legolas angrily, getting to his feet and towering over the much shorter elf.

"With all due respect, your majesty, the king wishes to see her."

Your heart leapt up at this, what could the king want with you?

The guard finally succeeded in opening the door, and was immediately met by your fist connecting firmly with his nose, you heard a sickening crunch and blood sprayed from the centre of his face. Quickly, you were restrained by five other elves, and though you struggled, you couldn't escape.

Legolas, who had been watching the display, widened his eyes in amazement.

The guard you had punched was still lying on the floor of your cell, moaning as he cradled his broken nose and blood poured out through his hands.

"We must take you to the king." stated one of your captors, holding your lean arms tight behind your back to prevent you from causing anymore injury.

You looked helplessly at Legolas, desperate to avoid seeing Thranduil again, but to no avail. He simply mouthed, "I'm sorry," and bowed his head. Fat lot of good he was...

You were led off, your heart full of dread at what your meeting would entail, but as you left, you heard loud dwarfish shouts following you.

"Punched the bastard right in the nose!" yelled Kili, and his voice was followed by rounds of thunderous applause, and a few whistles.

"Show him what you're made of!" that might have been Dwalin, or Balin.

"Good luck, lassie," the thick Scottish accent definitely came from Gloin.

"Give him a right hook from me!"

"Nice one!"

"Did she break it?"

"By the amount of blood coming from that elf's face, I'm going to say yes."

More cheers and applause followed this, and as you were led through winding tunnel and twisting path, the voices of the dwarves continued to echo through the halls, giving you a sense of safety and strength. You were not alone in this.


	3. The King of Mirkwood is a dick

You were marched roughly around the corridors and winding paths of Mirkwood, your guards holding tightly onto your arms, making sure that you didn't try anything. You had a feeling that you had broken that elf's nose that morning...

You rounded a corner and stumbled into a large, square room. In the centre of that room, surrounded by many intricately designed tables and chairs, sat a large throne. It was different to the one you had first seen on your arrival at Mirkwood, but no less impressive. It was coated in silver, and many beautiful patterns covered its surface, studded with rubies and emeralds that sparked in the sunrise. Sitting on the throne, legs crossed and looking every part a king, was Thranduil, his silver hair almost glowing in the light.

The elves holding you threw you into the room, and you stumbled, unbalanced, and fell to your knees. Breathing heavily, you started to get up.

"Stay where you are," ordered Thranduil, and he slowly stood up off his throne and walked purposefully towards you. Soon, he had reached you, and towered over you, looking down at you where you knelt.

"What is your name?" he asked simply.

You knew that you had to answer, but decided to give a fake name just to be safe.

"I am called Irah," you stated, looking up at him.

"Get up," he ordered, stepping back to give you some room to push yourself up of the floor and stand up, glaring at him as you said so.

Thranduil looked at you, then looked past you to the open doors behind your head.

"Legolas," he said firmly, "Come in here and join me."

You sighed inwardly, and rolled your eyes. Of course he was there. He was always there. You heard quiet steps echo around the room as the blonde elf walked towards you and stood behind his father, eyes downcast.

"Legolas," asked Thranduil, his blue eyes never leaving yours, "What is this woman's name?"

Shit.

Oh no.

Oh God.

Did he know your name? How could he know, you didn't tell him... did you?

But wait, you did. At your first meeting, in the Mirkwood forest. Your mind wandered back to your first conversation with him.

("(Your name)," you said, cutting him off, "human,")

Damn.

"(Your name)," he stated simply, avoiding eye contact with you.

"I see," mused Thranduil, before suddenly and unexpectedly slapping you hard around the face.

You fell to the floor, eyes watering and cheek stinging. The muffled sounds of Legolas leaping forwards to help you were cut off by a sharp, "Leave her," from his father.

"So, 'Irah'," Thranduil continued, walking around you, and crouching down to look you in the eyes, "Why are you trying to hide your identity from me? Who are you? Why are you traveling with these dwarves?"

The barrage of questions knocked you off balance, and you tried to stand up again, but quickly fell once more. Suddenly, a warm pair of hands wrapped around your forearms and lifted you up off the floor from behind. You turned around to see Legolas, glaring at his father, with anger in his eyes that you had never seen before.

"That was unnecessary," he said through gritted teeth. You noticed his fists were clenched so hard the knuckles were beginning to turn white.

"You are not a king," replied Thranduil, looking coolly at his son, "Therefore, I am not expecting you to understand such matters. This girl," he gestured at you, "is a danger to our people, and I wish to find out what threat she poses. Do not empathy to cloud your judgement, my son. You are dismissed."

"Father-" began Legolas.

"You are DISMISSED!" roared Thranduil, and guards immediately walked forward to escort Legolas out of the room. He fought at first, but eventually gave up and let himself be marched away. Fat lot of good he was.

Once the doors had closed, Thranduil turned once again to you, gazing at you with an infuriatingly neutral expression.

"I apologize for my son, he is far too sentimental for his own good. I repeat my former question, why are you travelling with these dwarves?"

His voice was hard, and you knew that lying again would only hurt you more, so you spoke the truth.

"Gandalf asked me to join the dwarves on their quest."

"Gandalf?" asked Thranduil, his eyebrows raising in surprise, "Why would he want a mere woman assisting the dwarves?"

"A 'mere' woman?" you asked scathingly, "I've killed more orcs than the rest of them combined, I think I'm capable of 'assisting' them in any way possible."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at your response, but kept silent. He turned away from you, walking back towards his throne, his long cloak billowing out behind him.

"So what?" you asked cheekily, your confidence growing as he walked away, "Is that it?"

To your surprise, instead of striking you again, the king merely smiled to himself.

"You are a strange one..." he mused, "that will be all. GUARDS!"

The guards once again immediately entered the room.

"Please lead this woman back to her cell," said Thranduil with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Some of the guards hung back, remembering how you had lashed out that morning, and not wanting the same fate as the last elf who had got in your way.

"What is it?" asked Thranduil, visibly confused.

"I broke a guard's nose with a well-placed right hook this morning," you replied, "I think they're a bit wary..."

The king let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head imperceptibly, and turned around, walking back to his throne, "Take her away," he ordered once more, and the guards rushed forwards, gripping your arms painfully tight and marching you out of the room and back to your cell, closing the door behind them.


	4. Abandoned by Dwarves

Thanks so much to everyone for reviewing! Xxx

* * *

You slept soundly that night, lulled to dreams by the gentle snoring sounds of the dwarves in the cells surrounding you. Surprisingly, Legolas had not come to visit you that night, and you assumed that he felt guilty for the events that unfolded yesterday. Although, of course, if he hadn't been such a pussy, things might have worked out a little differently...

Anyway...

Despite the sparseness of the elvish cells, they were surprisingly comfortable. Though the long wooden bench on the cell was hard, it was warm and dry. You had to admit, it was a lot nicer than many places that you had slept before.

That didn't mean that you didn't want to get the hell out of there, though...

You were woken up by unexpected banging and shouting. Instinctively leaping to your feet, you looked outside your cell door and immediately jumped back as hundreds of elves ran past you, sharp weapons glinting in the morning sunrise.

"They've escaped! They've escaped!" came a loud shout from outside, and your sleep-addled mind struggled to comprehend what was going on.

It was only when a guard looked into your cell and said loudly, "The girl's still here!" that you finally understood.

They had escaped.

Some time in the night, the dwarves had got out of their cells and quickly scurried away. And left you there. In a prison. On your own. You blamed Thorin. Of course it would be the surly leader of the group who had decided to leave you behind, under false pretences that you had actually begun to understand each other. That backstabbing son of a...

"(Your name!)" shouted a voice, and you turned to see Legolas standing outside your cell, sword in hand and, to your surprise, hair looking slightly dishevelled, "We need your help!"

"Excuse me?" you replied scathingly, raising an eyebrow, "I thought Thranduil didn't approve of getting assistance from a 'lowly woman'"

Legolas cringed at the harsh tone of your voice, "I'm sorry, truly..."

"Whatever," you dismissed him childishly, waving your hand.

You knew you were being immature, but you couldn't help yourself. The guy had stood by and watched you get beaten to a bloody pulp by his father yesterday, and today was asking for you to help him? You weren't usually one to hold a grudge, but if there was one thing that you couldn't forgive, it was bystander.

"There are orcs outside," he stated, and your head instantly looked up, interested, "Many, many orcs. An army of them. Your friends are in danger, as is Mirkwood. We have an army, but none with experience fighting these beasts. I know it's a lot to ask, but-"

"Give me a sword and I'm there," you stood up, ready to finally get some action. You had been stuck in this manky cell for days, and your weary legs were aching from lack of use.

Legolas silently nodded and unlocked the door to your cell. Before opening it, he gave you a wary look, and said cautiously, "You're not going to break my nose are you? Because Tobias is still in the hospital wing..."

You let out a loud laugh and smiled at him, "I only break the noses of people I hate, Legolas. You, surprisingly, do not fall into that category..."

"But you're willing to backfist me in the groin?" he asked, remembering your first meeting.

"Well, they were extraordinary circumstances" you replied sheepishly, stepping out of the cell and grabbing the sword that Legolas was offering you. It felt good to finally have a weapon in your hand again.

"Anyway," you continued, grasping the sword tightly and accustoming yourself to its balance and weight, "I could have done worse."

You smiled and followed Legolas through winding paths and passages. He ducked behind pillars and columns when he saw guards, and you assumed that, technically, you weren't supposed to be wandering the passages of Mirkwood with a sharp sword in your hand.

You were led downwards, away from the noise and commotion, until eventually, you reached a large cellar. Two elvin guards sat on chairs, a large table in front of them, fast asleep, tankards of mead in front of their bobbing heads. You raised an eyebrow to Legolas, and he shrugged, smiling again.

"Your friends are very crafty," he explained, and you couldn't help but let out a small chuckle.

"Ladies first," he proffered his hand and you saw a large gap in the floor, that led into what looked like a fast-moving stream.

"You have GOT to be kidding me..." you mumbled under your breath, and sighed as you slid your sword into the empty scabbard at your waist and looked downwards, "I am NOT jumping into that..."

Surely a fall of that size would kill you. Or at least seriously break some bones.

Legolas looked at you with a glint in his eye, "Scared?" he teased.

"We're not all as graceful as elves, princess," you explained.

He let out a laugh, "Well, we could technically go out the front way, but I was not allowed to free you, and if we pass a troop of guards on our way out... Well, it won't end particularly well for you..."

Damn. Death by drowning it was then.

"You go first," you said to Legolas, stepping back. You wanted to catch up with the dwarves, but seeing how it was done wouldn't hurt.

"If you insist," he replied smoothly, before stepping up to the hole, taking a calm breath, and jumping out.

If only you were an elf and you could live your life doing everything so gracelfully...

"Pull yourself together," you told yourself, rubbing your hands together in anticipation.

Stepping up to the edge of the hole, you closed your eyes and tried to blot out the sounds of rushing water and the occasional cry of an orc as an elf's arrow hit its target. You had a sword in your hand and you had your freedom.

That was all you needed.

Taking a deep breath and squeezing your eyes closed, you leaped into the abyss.


	5. Swords and Spears

The cold water hit you like a brick wall as you plunged into the icy river. You tried to swim upwards, desperate for oxygen, but each time you got close you were tumbled over again, your mouth and nose filling with liquid. A sharp pain erupted from your head as it smashed forcefully against a large rock, and as your lungs screamed for air and your eyes began to close, you realised that this was the end.

Suddenly, you felt a strong pair of arms grasp your shoulders and drag you out of the river onto the bank. You immediately rolled on your front, taking heaving breaths, filling your body with much needed air. Coughing and spluttering, you were roughly pulled up, and stood face to face with a large orc, it's foul breath making you wrinkle your nose as it smirked at you, showing rows of mishae yellow teeth. You stepped back, eyes wide, and grasped helplessly for your sword, but before you could reach it, the orc lifted his jagged knife and prepared for the kill.

Thunk.

A confused expression plastered the creature's face, as he tottered a bit on his feet, then fell sideways, engulfed by the river. As his body floated away, face down, you noticed an elvish arrow protruding from the back of its head.

"Are you well?" came a low, urgent voice, breaking your shocked expression.

You glanced up to see Legolas running towards you, bow in hand, his wet hair plastered to his face.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good," you said, wringing out your soaking wet hair and unsheathing your blade, ready for action.

"You are hurt," he noticed, concern clouding his voice, his gaze focused on your forehead.

You reached to your head and brought your hand back to your face, sticky with bright red blood.

"I hit my head on a rock, I'm fine." you explained, as you turned and began to run further downstream.

Legolas quickly followed you, taking out the occasional orc with a well placed arrow.

"Are you certain?" he asked you, not even out of breath from the running.

"I've had worse," you panted back at him, as a orc jumped out in front of you, knife ready to slit your throat.

You swiftly side-stepped the attack, before leaping forwards and stabbing the beast in the side, its warm blood soaking into your already wet tunic. As the creature went down, you turned back to Legolas, and saw him staring at you in fascinated awe.

"Incredible," he muttered, shaking his head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, laddie?" came the unmistakable Scottish voice of Gloin from further downstream, and you immediately ran towards the noise.

Gandalf had trusted you to protect these dwarves, and even if they were a bunch of abandoning, pretentious arseholes, you had to stay true to your word.

You sprinted as fast as you could, slashing every creature that got in your way, Legolas closely behind you, firing arrows at the orcs you missed. Eventually, you rounded a bend to see the river full of large wine barrels, each barrel containing a soaking wet dwarf. Your eyebrows raised and you let out a half laugh. You had to hand it to them, they were intuitive...

"(Your name!)" shouted Legolas, as he knocked you over with his body, just in time, as a goblin arrow whistled past, where your head would have been.

Your face was pushed down into the grassy ground and Legolas' heavy weight lay on your back, pushing your hips uncomfortably into the floor.

"Thanks," you breathed out.

"You're welcome," replied Legolas, rolling off you and quickly helping you up.

There were elves everywhere, and though they hadn't noticed you yet, you couldn't assume that they never would, so you vowed to be more inconspicuous.

Legolas suddenly ran towards the river at full pelt, grasping his bow tightly.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" you shouted desperately. Well, so much for inconspicuous.

He leaped gracefully into the air, and your eyes widened in shock and amazement as he landed very lightly with his feet on the heads of two barrel-clad dwarves. You couldn't see their faces, but you assumed that they wouldn't be happy.

Running along beside the river, trying to keep up with the fast-moving barrels, you watched in awe as Legolas shot arrow after arrow, each one hitting its mark. A drop of blood ran into your eyes and you swiped it away with the back of your hand. You would have to get that head wound seen to.

Goblins jumped out at you left, right and centre, but you were always one step ahead, making sure that none of them could harm the dwarves. Your knife was fast, and your wits were faster, and you stopped each creature in its tracks.

Searching the line of dwarves, you eventually found who you were looking for.

"THORIN!" you called, and the dwarf-king looked around at you, just in time to see you stab another beast through the heart.

You were pretty sure that your tunic used to be green, but its colour now was indistinguishable, black orc blood mingled with the red blood from your head wound coated the thin fabric.

"WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?" you yelled, hurt and betrayed.

Legolas was now running on the other side of the river bank, occasionally throwing you a concerned glance.

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" came Thorin's rough, low voice, and your eyes wandered the pack of dwarves until they came to rest on Kili. His face was pale, and his eyes, trained onto you, were bloodshot and watery.

Oh God, no. Kili hadn't been hit, had he?

"KILI!" you yelled, and his eyelids fluttered, as he tried to raise a hand to you, but was quickly swept away by the thundering waters.

The dwarves travelled much faster than you, and you eventually had to stop running, bending double and taking having breaths. Looking up, you saw the dwarves float off into the distance. Too far too catch up, but still well in earshot.

"YOU BASTARD!" you shouted at Thorin, grabbing a knife from a dead orc laying beside you and hurling it at his barrel.

It hit its target and thudded firmly into the soft wood, causing Thorin to look up in alarm.

"YOU BETRAYING, COWARDLY SON OF A BITCH!" you continued, searching for another weapon to throw at him, but before you could find one, the dwarves floated around a corner and disappeared from view.

Breathing heavily, you feel to your knees, surrounded by dead goblins.

"The prisoner, she's escaped!" you heard a surprised voice call, and your eyes widened in horror.

Getting to your feet and turning around, you saw a band of elven guards, having just witnessed your rant, liking at you with confusion. Your eyes scanned for Legolas and saw him on the other side of the river, looking at you desperately.

'Run,' he mouthed, and you did the only thing that you could do. You turned around and fled into the dark forces beside you, pursued by at least ten elves.

You ran, your legs burning. Tree branches slapped your face as you passed them, but you didn't dare to stop. You leaped over fallen logs and vaulted small streams, not daring to look behind you.

Finally, after a few hours of running, your legs gave out and you collapsed onto the floor in a heap, taking heaving breaths, eyes watering.

Your ears strained for any sound of the elves catching up with you, but you could hear nothing. You must have lost them.

Panting, you rolled over into your back and stared at the sky. The tree coverage was thick, but you could see patches of mid-day sun shining through the leaves onto your exhausted body. You allowed yourself ten minutes to recover, then forced yourself to stand up, legs screaming in protest as you let them take your weight. Reaching to your hip, you let out a sigh of relief as you noticed you still had your sword, strapped tightly to your hip.

"Thank God," you muttered to yourself, at least you were able to defend yourself. Who knew what kind of creatures inhabited this place.

You had been running for a long time, and were disoriented. The dwarves were still the most important thing to you. You had come on this quest because you owed Gandalf a favour, and leaving them, just as they were at the end of their journey wouldn't shine you in a good light with the old wizard.

Sighing to yourself, you realised that you would have to climb a tree to get your bearings. Luckily for you, there wasn't exactly a shortage of trees around.

You picked a particularly sturdy-looking one with strong, thick branches, and walked towards it, shaking out your aching limbs in preparation for the climb. You reached the bottom of the tree, and grabbed hold of a dangling branch, getting a good balance on it, before beginning to hoist yourself up. Gradually and steadily pulling yourself towards the sky, you began to get closer and closer to the top. Eventually, after what seemed like forever, you had finished your ascent, and looked around desperately, trying to spot the river in the vastness of forest before you.

Finally you found it, a thin glistening line in the otherwise endless expanse of trees. It was due West, and looked like it would be at least a day's travel. Who knew you could run so far in two hours?

You leaned back on a thin branch and took in the view before you. Forest stretched in every direction, and the sun, right at the top of the sky, shone rays of light over the leaves of every tree.

Suddenly, you heard a loud SNAP, and your stomach lurched as the branch you were leaning on shattered and you fell backwards, arms desperately grabbing for an anchor, but finding none.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" you yelled as you squeezed your eyes shut and prepared yourself for the impact.

A strong pair of arms caught you, jarring your teeth and knocking the breath out of your body. Opening your eyes in shock, huffing out a pained breath, your eyes widened, as looking down at your curled up body was Legolas.

You jumped in surprising, making him drop you, and you thudded to the ground, painfully hitting your tailbone on the hard floor. You winced, then stood up, glaring at the elf in front of you.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?" you shouted, causing him to step back in shock.

"A simple 'thank you' would suffice," he replied, raising his hands passively, his face looking hurt, "I did just save your life..."

"SAVE MY LIFE?" you roared back, taking a step forward and making him unconsciously take another one back, "YOU'VE DONE NOTHING BUT ENDANGER MY LIFE EVER SINCE YOU FOUND ME!"

The toils and traumas of the past few weeks had finally caught up with you, and you let your anger out at the only person you could, the rather shocked and wounded-looking elf price.

"NOW I'M COMPLETELY LOST IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS BLOODY FOREST! TO ADD TO THAT, MY ENTIRE COMPANY HAS LEFT ME..."

Legolas looked horrified as he took in your expression. You could feel water clouding your vision and blurring your eyes but you didn't stop.

"And now I don't... I don't know..." you blinked and a single tear ran down your face. You swiped it away angrily, furious at yourself for breaking down.

As you wiped the tear away, you felt a sharp, stinging pain in your head, and reached your hand to it. Bile raised in your throat as you felt the warm, sticky mess of blood coating your forehead. You had almost forgotten about the head wound you had received from the rock in that river.

Legolas stepped forwards, and you drew your sword, ready to fight him off, but he raised his hands again, showing he was weaponless.

"(Your name)," he said desperately, looking at you with pleading eyes, "Let me tend to it. It will just get worse if I don't."

"How do I know I can trust you."

"If I wanted to kill you, don't you think I would have done it by now?" he replied, eyebrows raised.

That shut you up. You guessed he was right, so you silently nodded and sat on the ground, as he came up and knelt beside you.

He began to slowly clean out the wound with a small wineskin, causing you to hiss in pain as the alcohol burned your exposed flesh.

"I'm sorry," he said earnestly, as he ripped a long strip from the bottom of his fabric tunic and began to wrap it around your injured head, his cool fingers soothing the heat of the pain.

"How did you find me?" you asked, once he had secured the makeshift bandage in place.

"I followed the sound of laboured breathing and clunky footsteps," he responded, smiling at you to show he was joking.

"You should rest," he said, "I'll find us something to eat."

"Can you lead me back to the river?" you responded, trying to sound strong and brave, and inwardly groaning as it came out as a quiet whimper.

He turned around and smiled at you, his white teeth flashing, "Why of course, good Lady" he answered, bowing to you and chuckling, "I couldn't just leave you out here to starve, now, could I?"


	6. A Little Snack

Thank you for all the reviews xx

* * *

"Caught one yet?" you yelled into the forest, smirking as you were replied to with a low grunt and a sharp bang.

Legolas stepped back into the clearing, his breathing heavy and his hair looking slightly dishevelled.

"They, they move fast," he explained, panting, walking over to you and plonking himself down on the ground beside you, placing his bow on the floor.

You looked up, smiling ad flashing a row of straight white teeth, "I thought you were good at hunting?" you teased, elbowing him playfully in the stomach.

He rolled hi eyes at you, then sighed, "I hunt giant spiders, (your name)," he replied, smoothing down his hair with one hand, "They are considerably harder to miss."

"What are you hunting?" you asked, your stomach rumbling. It had been at least an hour since Legolas had gone off hunting with the promise of a quick meal. 'Quick' had bee a lie. After twenty minutes of hearing muffled swearing and thuds from the dense forest, you had realised that a meal might not be on the menu.

"There are many small birds in the trees that are safe to eat, but they move too fast for me. My arrows are too big to hit them." he explained.

You nodded, groaning as your stomach rumbled again, then looked at Legolas, an idea forming in your head.

"Have you got a dagger?" you asked, tilting your head to the side and looking at him, "A really small one?"

He looked at you, confused, then nodded and reached into his belt and pulled out a tiny dagger. It was no larger than your hand was long. He smiled and handed it over to you, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

"Thanks," you responded, standing up and walking towards the forest. If the elf couldn't get you something to eat, you were just going to have to get something yourself...

"No pressure," teased Legolas, lying back in the soft grass, placing his hands behind his head and closing his eyes, "They're speedy little things..."

"So am I," you replied quickly, "And I'm starving."

Legolas chucked as you walked further into the forest, dagger in your hand. He didn't believe you could do it. Well, you were going to show him.

You walked for a while, the dry leaves crunching underfoot, until trees fully surrounded you and Legolas was nowhere in sight. At lest if he was far out of earshot, he couldn't hear you fail.

Listening carefully, you strained to hear any sign of life. A small tweet came from above you and your head snapped up to see a tiny, brightly coloured bird hopping on the thick branch of a tree.

"Gotcha," you whispered, raising your dagger and hurling it at the creature.

With a frightened squawk it flapped its wings and darted away into the darkness of the forest, letting your sharp weapon thunk into the wood, quivering from the impact.

"Shit," you hissed, and you heard Legolas laugh.

"You really have to get a better vocabulary," his voice echoed around the forest, bouncing off the tall trees.

"How the hell did you hear that?" you yelled back, you had barely whispered the word, and he was at least a hundred feet away, hidden by forest.

"Elf senses," he replied, and you sighed.

Obviously, the super-human could hear through wood but he couldn't fire an arrow at a bird. Typical.

You grabbed the hilt of the dagger and tugged it out of the tree, before turning around to find your next victim. A high-pitched noise came from your left, and you spun around, letting the dagger fly loose and once again impale itself into the bark of a thick, wooden trunk. The only remnants of the bird were a few brightly coloured feathers, floating to the ground as their owner flew away in the opposite direction.

Trying again and again, you failed and failed too hit even one bird. Your hair was frizzy and your face was red when you returned to Legolas, his smug grin making you grit your teeth in frustration.

"Annoying little bastards," you sighed, lying down the floor, placing your hands over your rumbling stomach and groaning, "Ugh, I'm SO hungry..."

Legolas nodded in agreement, then sat up straight, eyes wide. He began rooting around in his bag, desperately searching for something.

"What are you doing?" you asked, but he simply held up a finger to silence you and continued rummaging.

Finally, his face lit up, as he removed two laughs bundles of leaves from the bag.

"Here, take one," he said, handing one to you.

"Brilliant," you responded sarcastically, "Let's eat leaves, delicious."

He smirked at you.

"Unwrap them."

You did as you were told, and your eyes widened as a small white corner peeked out of the bundle.

"Lembas," you muttered, then turned to Legolas.

"You didn't think of telling me this whilst I was running around in a forest desperately trying to stab birds, did you?"

Legolas winced, "I forgot?" he offered pathetically.

"Forgot?"

"Well, you were quite amusing to listen to."

Your face turned outraged and you elbowed him, hard. He grunted in pain then smirked at you, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief.

You took a bite of the dry bread, then turned to Legolas again.

"We set off tomorrow?"

"That is wise. These forests can be dangerous places at night."

You sighed. Like you needed anything else to make you even more on edge.

"I'll take first watch," offered Legolas, taking another bite from his bread, as the sun started to set, casting the clearing in an orange glow.


	7. Revelations

As always, thanks for reviewing x

* * *

You squinted as the bright sun shone through the canopy of trees, and sat up, rubbing your eyes and stretching your aching muscles. It had been a long night, and your back ached from lying in an extremely uncomfortable position. Also, you had not managed to get that much sleep, resulting in you being very, very irritable.

"Good morning," said Legolas from your right, startling you and causing you to jump in alarm. A soft swear came out of your mouth, as you turned to see him sitting cross-legged in the grass beside you, "You did not sleep well."

He said it as a statement, rather than a question.

You grumbled in answer, and begun packing up the cloaks that you had used as blankets back into Legolas' satchel.

"I thought you were going to wake me up to take second watch?" you asked him, messily stuffing the bundle of fabric into his bag and hoisting it over your shoulder, before turning to face him, "Did you not sleep last night?"

He smiled in response and took the heavy bag from you, putting it instead around his own broad shoulder.

"Elves do not have the same needs as humans," he answered, "We sleep," Legolas continued, smoothing down his hair with one hand, "But not nearly as often as the race of men. And when we do, our eyes remain open."

You pondered this for a second, imagining Legolas lying on his back with his hands folded on his chest, eyes dead and glassy. Shaking yourself of the image, you wiped the breadcrumbs off your tunic, still splattered in blood.

"Creepy," you muttered, earning an ungraceful snort from Legolas, and continued to pack up your supplies.

Legolas rooted around in his bag for another square of lembas.

If you had to eat one more bloody square of that elvish bread you were probably going to jump off a cliff yourself and save the goblins the bother of trying to kill you. He took a bite and handed you the rest of the square. It was slightly damp, the dew from the grass having soaked through Legolas' fabric satchel.

He raised his eyebrows at you in surprise.

"Not good enough for you?" He asked, a smirk on his lips.

You chuckled and waved him off with your hand, "Nah, I like my lembas soft in the morning," you joked.

Staring at it reproachfully, you shrugged and took a large bite. Food was food, you guessed. Even if it did taste like wood-pulp.

"Right," you stated, once everything was packed and ready, "Which way is the river?"

Legolas took a second to get his bearings, then pointed west and looked over at you, "Over there," he answered, setting off at a quick pace.

"I still can't believe that they left me..." you grumbled, following him.

"Your dwarf friends?" Legolas asked.

You snorted in derision at the word.

"Friends?" you asked contemptuously, "Hah, some friends they were..."

Legolas' brow twisted in confusion as he looked down at you, "Why, why are you trying to re-unite with them if they are not your friends?" he asked.

"I promised Gandalf," you responded simply, almost jogging to keep up with him, his legs were much longer than yours.

"The wizard?"

You nodded, "I begun this quest with them, so I must end it with them. I gave him my word." you explained, looking troubled.

"You are an honourable friend," Legolas mused, looking forwards at the woods ahead, "I do not know many people who would be willing to go the lengths that you have gone for people who do not appear to value your company."

Nodding silently, you thought about this, as quiet once again fell on the forest, your conversation stopping as quickly as it had begun.

You walked in silence for a time, content just to be in the company of each other. The muted sounds of small animals rustling in the bushes and a soft wind blowing through the trees filled the area, dispelling the need for mindless chatter.

After a while, you begun to notice that something was on Leglolas' mind. He appeared troubled, his face looking concerned, as he kept glancing down at you. Eventually, his restless behaviour caused you to suddenly stop walking and look up at him.

"OK," you said firmly, "What's up?"

Legolas looked confused, as he bent his neck backwards to look at the thick canopy of trees above you.

"Uh, the sky?" he answered, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"No, I mean what's the matter." you explained, walking towards him, "You seem, I don't know, off,"

Legolas sighed and looked at you, his sparkling blue eyes connecting intensely with yours, making you fidget uncomfortably.

"You slept not an ounce last night," he stated, never breaking eye contact, "You stayed awake in the same position the whole night through. Why? Were you uncomfortable? If you were too cold, you should have asked me for my cloak, I would have been more than happy to-"

"Legolas," you cut him off, holding up your hand, "I... it was just..."

"Yes?" he urged.

You sighed inwardly.

"I find it difficult to trust people, Legolas," you admitted, dropping your eyes to the floor and cleaning out the dirt in between your fingernails in an attempt to not look at him, "It took me weeks to be able to sleep next to the dwarves at night. I don't know, I'm just paranoid that if I fall asleep, I'm going to wake up with your dagger stuck in my neck..."

His eyes widened in horror as he grasped the meaning of your words, "I... I would never..." he stammered, shocked that you could think such a thing.

"I know, I know," you replied, shaking your head as you turned and continued walking, followed quickly by Legolas, "I'm just paranoid. It's nothing to do with you."

He looked at you uncertainly, and raised his arm, seemingly with the intention of wrapping it around your shoulder, then changed his mind and let it drop limply back to his side.

"The river is not too far from here," he told you, seeing that you were uncomfortable with the direction that your conversation had taken, and you followed him onwards into the darkness of the forest, listening out for the sound of running water.


	8. An Awkward Conversation

Thanks for following and reviewing, onwards and upwards! xXx

* * *

You sighed, your aching stomach grumbling for food as you trudged onward towards the river, your shoes sinking deep into the muddy ground.

You heard a smirk from Legolas, and turned to face him accusingly. You had been walking for the last six hours, and the sun was just starting to set beyond the trees, basking the forest in an orange glow, but still you refused to stop. Finding your dwarven companions was more important than resting at the moment.

"Hungry?" he asked you, looking down at you with amusement on his pale face.

You glared daggers at him, not in the mood to be trifled with.

"Just because I'm not some sort of freaky super-human who apparently doesn't need something as trivial as FOOD to survive..." you grumbled.

Feeling guilty for snapping at him, you looked up to make sure he was alright. It wasn't HIS fault he hardly ever ate, yet always seemed more energetic than you.

Instead if looking offended, as you had expected, he seemed to be biting back a smile, trying to not anger you further by laughing. It didn't work.

Glaring up at him, you rubbed your aching belly again, and snapped, "So do you have food or not?"

"You know, I could have you killed for speaking to me with such disrespect in Mirkwood. I am a prince, as you keep forgetting..."

"Bite me," you responded, walking towards a large rock and sitting yourself down on it.

Legolas' eyes widened at your words, before shaking his head and smiling.

"You're quite something, aren't you?"

You didn't answer, preferring to root around in the small bag Legolas had handed you for any sign of something to eat. You groaned as your hand hit a square-shaped package wrapped in leaves.

Of course. Lembas. What else?

Unwrapping the package, you pulled out the angular bread and looked up to see Legolas sitting next to you on the large boulder. It was big enough for the both if you to sit on, but Legolas' thigh rubbed against yours as he adjusted his position, sending a shock up your left side and causing you to take a small gasp. He looked over at you, confused, and you waved your hand dismissively, tucking into the bread to avoid eye-contact.

No. This was not happening. You were not getting a crush on this poncey arsehole. No way.

You shook your head in an attempt to regain your senses, and offered him a piece of lembas, trying to dispel the sudden feelings that had appeared.

"No thank you," he replied turning your offer down, "I do not need to eat as frequently as humans.

"Uh huh," you muttered, taking another large, crunchy bite.

You sat in silence for a while after that, you finishing off the last of the lembas and Legolas, sat rigidly, the wind blowing gently through his long, blonde hair.

Brushing your hands on your leggings, you stood up, took a deep breath and turned to face your companion.

"Are we going then?" you asked, the taste of the elvish bread still lingering in your mouth.

"Of course," he replied, and you turned to go.

Suddenly, a gasp of horror came from Legolas, and you spun around, hand on sword, looking to see what the matter was.

"You are hurt," he said, walking urgently towards you.

Assuming he was talking about your head wound, you pointed to your bandaged skull and replied, "No kidding. Nothing gets past you, does it?"

He reached you, and immediately, strong warm hands began to lightly run all over your body, searching.

You stepped back, your heart racing, holding your hand up in defence.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" you snapped, breath coming fast.

"You are injured and bleeding," Legolas replied, panic crossing his elven features, "I am looking for the wound so I may remedy it."

He resumed his search, his hands wandering over your torso.

"Woah, WOAH," you said, pushing him away, "What are you talking about?"

He looked at you with wild eyes, and pointed to the rock you had been sitting on. A small pool of blood soaked the light coloured stone where you had been.

Ooooh no. Nope. This was NOT happening now.

"Ah crap," you sighed. What you had mistaken for simple hunger pains in your stomach had turned out to actually be mother nature, bestowing her monthly gift. Your hand flew to your pocket, and you let out a sigh of relief as you realised you had adequate supplies.

"Please," begged Legolas, "Allow me to heal you."

"You don't need to," you replied, finally understanding, "I'm not hurt, I'm alright."

"(Your name), this is no time for chivalry." Legolas reprimanded, searching in his pack for his wineskin, to use as an antiseptic, "If you are injured I must see to it immediately."

"I'm FINE, Legolas, I assure you."

He rooted around in his pack, bringing out a large white bandage and a bottle of antiseptic fluid.

Rolling your eyes up to heaven, you decided to tell him the truth.

"Legolas it's just my period, don't worry."

The elf's face twisted in confusion.

"Your, your what?" he asked.

"You know," you replied, embarrassed, "Every month a woman gets it..."

His face still looked blank. Oh Valar, you were going to have to explain it to him...

"It's nature's way of telling me I'm not pregnant... every month, the lining of a woman's womb breaks down and exits her body as blood. It's nothing to worry about it's completely natural."

Legolas' eyes widened in realisation and he flushed a dark crimson, the colour contrasting sharply with the blonde of his hair.

"Your... your cycle?" he asked, nervously fidgeting with his bag, looking incredibly awkward.

"Uh huh," you replied, glad that he had finally got it, your face feeling hot with the embarrassment.

"Listen. I'm just going to go and, um, clean up..." you said, walking out into the trees, "I won't be long..."

"I'll, I'll stay here," mumbled Legolas, kicking the ground with his foot as you sauntered off into the trees, his face burning red in humiliation.

Were you EVER just going to have a normal conversation with this bloody elf?


	9. Parting

Thanks to everyone for all the follows/ favourites/ reviews. you guy are the best. xx

* * *

Finally, after many hours walking, you stepped past the last thick tree and into blinding sunlight. Squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, you realised that this was the first real sunlight you had seen in nearly two days. As your eyes became accustomed to the light, you began to see the large, flowing river before you.

Beaming, you turned to Legolas, eyes bright with excitement.

"We made it!" you exclaimed, exhausted, but Legolas' face remained grim.

"What's wrong?" you asked, confused. Surely this was a time to be happy?

"You still have a long way to travel, (your name)." he sighed, looking at you worriedly.

"Don't worry about me!" you scoffed, waving your hands dismissively, "I'll just follow the river, and you can make your way back to Mirkwood. Catch up on all those great balls you've been missing..."

Legolas' eyes widened at your suggestion, and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but you misinterpreted his expression.

"Oh, don't worry about that," you continued, "Just tell the guards that you chased me into the woods, but couldn't find me. They'll believe you. They never need know you were helping a fugitive-"

"(Your name)" interrupted Legolas, his face full of an emotion you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You stopped talking and raised an eyebrow at him, "What's wrong?"

He hesitated for a second, then almost imperceptibly took a deep breath.

"I want to come with you," he stated simply, his voice nearly lost over the crashing of the water from the river beside you.

Your heart leapt in your chest at the sentiment and your mouth opened in surprise. He wanted to stay with you, to be with you. He had just said as much.

'Don't be such an idiot,' you thought to yourself, shaking your head, 'This is no romantic attachment, he just feels responsible for you.'

"I don't think that would be wise," you replied, standing tall and trying to appear as large as possible, "I can take care of myself, Legolas. I've been doing it all of my life. You don't need to worry."

You nodded your head, happy that you had successfully put your point across, and you glanced up at his face, trying to gauge his reaction.

His eyes widened again at your rejection, and his hurt expression nearly made you change your mind, but you stuck with it and continued.

"You led me to the river. That was all I asked of you, you owe me nothing."

"Yet I still wish to journey with you."

You sighed. It looked like getting rid of elf-boy would be harder than you thought.

"Listen Legolas." you stated strongly, "I live alone. I always have."

Damn, you wished beyond anything that he could come with you. Over the few days that you had got to know each other, you felt as if you had grown quite close to the elf. Despite his years, he seemed full of light and life, and you would be lying if you said you had not enjoyed his company. Your conversations had been interesting, and often the elf had managed to make you burst into laughter, something which you hardly ever did.

You sighed to yourself. It could never work. You were a loner, in every sense of the word. Abandoned as a young child, you had learnt how to fend for yourself, and you distrusted nearly everyone you came in contact with. Only Gandalf, the old wizard, made you feel truly at peace in his company. Your relationship with the elf was exciting and enjoyable, but it had to be fleeting.

"What if orcs attack?" asked Legolas, his face almost desperate, "You might need my help..."

"Legolas I've been fighting orcs since I could walk. I'll be fine."

To be honest to yourself, you were frightened by your emotions.

You had lived your life afraid to rely on anybody, least of all men. Suddenly though, this mysterious stranger bursts into your life and changes everything. You couldn't fool yourself into believing that you weren't beginning to get feelings for him. His every move drew your eyes to him. The way his hair blew in the breeze, the slight upturn of his lip on the left when he found something amusing, the sight of him, face thunder, removing an orc from pleasure of its head.

Stop.

You had to let go.

You couldn't let this go on any further.

"Go home Legolas," you said, looking him in the eyes, your heart thumping, "I don't NEED you with me."

He took a small gasp, barely audible, and returned your gaze fiercely.

"Please-" he begun.

"Just GO!"

A long pause followed, then finally Legolas spoke.

"If you are certain." he replied monotonously, turning to leave you. Just like that.

Goodbye.

"Fare well, (your name)," he muttered, "May the Valar guide your journey and may you reach your destination safely."

"Thank you, Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil." you replied, a small, sad smile tugging on your lips, "Without you, I might well have died..."

Taking a deep breath, you decided to say something really meaningful. If this was your last conversation, you would want to leave him with a good impression. You wracked your brain for something to say, desperate to not disappoint him. Who knew parting from a friend would have such an impact on you?

"And also, thank you for not being as much of an arsehole as you first appeared."

Smooth.

Real smooth.

His lips turned up on the left in the small smirk that you recognised so well.

He turned from you then, and, quiver of arrows on his back, began the walk back to Mirkwood palace.

"I hope we will meet again," he called over his back as he left, and you shouted back an affirmation before turning to face the direction the river was flowing.

Walking quickly, hand firmly on the elvish sword that still rested in your scabbard, you angrily wiped back a single year that had dared to escape you eyes. You had tried to hold it in whilst taking to Legolas, knowing full well that he would have never dreamed of leaving after seeing you cry, but now he was gone, you let them fall free.

The crash of the angry waters roared in your ears as droplets cascaded down your cheeks, salt water mixing with your lips and soaking your dry tongue. It was a very wet situation in general. Looking over your shoulder, you caught the last glimpse of Legolas before he turned a corner and disappeared out of view. A choked sob escaped your throat as you watched your companion leave, then you faced forward again and continued walking, hoping that the stream would lead you where you wanted to go.


	10. Returning To Home

This Chapter is written from Legolas' Point of View x

* * *

He jogged nimbly over the rocky ground, gracefully placing his feet in all the right positions. As he walked, he couldn't help but think of her. The way that, if she were with him, she would be decidedly less agile.

He smiled to himself as he imagined her following him, desperately trying to keep her feet to his path, but failing miserably and falling over at every opportunity. Probably with a few choice curses.

Legolas closed his eyes and shook his head, ridding his mind of the unwanted image.

She had asked him to leave. There was nothing else to it. Now he must return to Mirkwood and assist his father in rebuilding the army that the orcs had destroyed. Elves were strong warriors, but were no match for a multitude of the horrific creatures that monstrous size.

Elves were no match, yet she was, he thought to himself, with a small smile. The only time she had seemed truly at ease was with a dagger in her hand and a knife in her belt. Legolas couldn't help but remember standing by her as she fought, her face a mask of fire and ice and pure concentration as she whirled around, hair flying, and let a knife soar from her hand, always hitting its target.

"Don't be a fool," he muttered to himself, as he placed his foot once again on a large, water-covered rock, balancing perfectly.

The sound of the crashing river beside him drowned out his voice, and he shook his head once more.

She was just a human.

Nothing special.

Really, besides her skill with blades, she was very ordinary. There were many elves who were more beautiful, more worthy of his attention, more regal and ladylike.

She was just a silly little girl who he had helped to escape a punishment that she didn't deserve. That was all.

Yes, she could make him laugh in a way that nobody else ever had. She could cause him to grin so wide he felt his mouth would split open, but that was all unimportant.

He was a prince. Royalty. Even if he had developed small feelings for this woman, he knew that it was impossible.

He would marry a princess from a neighbouring province, or perhaps a noble-elf from a rich family. She would be beautiful and graceful and feminine and elegant, everything that the human girl wasn't. She would have no imperfections, no sudden outbursts of emotion, most certainly no cursing like a sailor when things didn't go to plan.

Sighing to himself as he ran, Legolas turned the corner of the river and came into view of the guards guarding the doors of Mirkwood. Loud shouts of "The prince, the prince has returned," echoed around the valley, and many elves ran up to him, concern masking their beautiful features.

"My Lord, are you injured?"

"Prince Legolas, where is the prisoner?"

"Did she attack you, your majesty?"

Legolas wafted the barrage of questions away with his hand away and stood up straight, "I followed her into the woods, but I lost her..."

He inwardly cringed as he realised that he was using the excuse that she had given him. The excuse that he had originally reacted to with contempt and disgust was now the reason that he was giving for his five-day absence.

Five days since he had released her from her cell and they had travelled together through river and forest. Five days to get to know her. It seemed like less.

He was hurried quickly into the halls of Mirkwood, his eyes becoming accustomed to the darkness around him.

"My Lord, you should see your father. He has been worried about you." said one of the guards, a tall elf with pin-straight black hair, standing in front of Legolas and blocking his path. The hand holding his long spear quivered slightly and Legolas bit back a grin.

He must be new.

Instructed to do everything the king asked, and terrified of Thranduil's son.

"Tell my father I apologise," replied Legolas kindly but firmly, gently pushing passed the petrified soldier, "but I wish to be alone."

The guard considered his proposal and nodded reluctantly, and Legolas made his way past him, walking to his chambers through the winding, twisting paths.

Finally, he reached them and pushed open the door, breathing in the familiar smell of books and dust. He closed the door behind him and sat on the large bed, reaching out his hand to grab a book that lay half-open next to him. Fingering the yellowing pages gently, he scanned his eyes over it, trying to remember what he had been reading about the last time he had been in this room, the night when the dwarves had escaped.

'Annastia, Queen of the Quyatzah realm, was a well-known fighter. Her skill with a bow and arrow was unparalleled, and she known to hit eagles clear out of the sky with her aim...'

Brows knotting in confusion, he flipped the book over in his hands to read the intricately engraved title on the dusk red leather cover, "Female Battle-Legends of the Ages."

He remembered now. He had picked the book up on a whim, the night that he had visited her in the cells. Her fiery temper and strong-willed disposition had intrigued him, and he had been desperate to find out more about women fighters.

Just for educational purposes, he reminded himself as he lay on his back, fully clothed, and his mind drifted to their last encounter. The smudge of dirt that covered her cheek. The unwilling tears that she had held in, desperate not to show. The way her voice cracked at her last goodbye, and his unexpected urge to breach the distance between them and crush her to his chest, never letting go. Where in the Valar had that come from?

Sighing, he dispelled the thought. It was probably just as well they had decided to go their separate ways. Elvish emotions were often much more intense than those of humans, and it was likely he would scare her away.

Saying a quick prayer to the Valar to keep her out of harm's way in her journey, he adjusted his position and sunk into a fitful sleep.


	11. Suitable Transport

Thank you for all the reviews and favourites x

* * *

"Just follow the river. Follow the bloody river..." you kept muttering to yourself as your feet manoeuvred the slippery rocks, sliding on the wet moss and stones.

"How long does this God-damn river go ON?!" you complained to yourself, but your moaning was met by deaf ears, as there was no-one in sight to listen to your voice, and the deafening crash of the river made sure to drown out any sounds that you made.

You had been walking for what seemed like hours, your feet precariously placing themselves on black, wet boulders. You had fallen over, of course, many times. Coordination wasn't your strong point, and the icy slipperiness of the ground beneath your feet did nothing to help your cause. Yo were sure to have a few bruises tomorrow...

The first few times you had stumbled, you almost expected to hear a low chuckle and a mocking "Careful there," accompanied by a strong, warm pair of arms wrapping around you and pulling you upright, but he was gone, and you had to accept that. Yes, you would miss his crappy jokes and his comforting presence, but you were just going to have to get over yourself.

You had survived this far without the help of that poncey elvish princeling, you could survive the rest of your life without it. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, sending him away, but the longer and further you travelled, the more you regretted it. Ironically, he would probably be your best bet at finding these bloody dwarves. They were causing you a considerable amount of difficulty at the moment.

To think if Thorin had just taken you with him, and you wouldn't have to make this uncomfortable journey down the fast flowing river. Though, on the other hand, if he had not left you behind, you never would have got to know Legolas, never got to see his face split into a grin at your clumsiness or unladylike manners...

Suddenly, your foot placed itself on a particularly slippy piece of rock, and your stomach lurched as you flew backwards, your legs being swept from under you. Ungracefully, you landed painfully on your tail-bone, that would leave a bruise...

"Fuck," you grunted, feeling the pain radiate from your lower back, jarring your spine.

The bad language felt good coming out of you, almost as if you had so much pent up anger and frustration inside you, it had to be released somehow.

The water sprayed your face, and it mingled with the tears that you didn't know were falling until now.

"Fuck." you repeated again, attempting to make yourself feel better.

The water splashing from the river soaked into your hair and tunic, freezing you to the bone as you pushed yourself up from the soaking ground, wiping the grass and moss off your already ruined tunic.

"Fucking sitting hell on a stick," you continued, standing up on your feet and yelling at the sky, letting your fury pour out like the water poured out of the river, un-swayed by barriers.

"FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCKING PERFECT HAIR AND FANCY CLOTHES AND INFURIATINGLY GORGEOUS SHOULDER TO WAIST RATIO!" you continued to roar to nobody in particular. It wouldn't surprise you if Legolas could hear you from Mirkwood, you were shouting so loud.

"YOU CAN TAKE YOUR BEAUTIFULLY CARVED ELVISH BOW, AND YOU CAN SHOVE IT STRAIGHT UP YOUR ROYAL-"

"Are you alright there, lass?" you heard a male voice ask you, and your hand immediately reached for your sword, until you turned and saw that it was just an old man, face creased and weathered by age.

His thin, white hair stuck up in shocks on his tanned head, and he leaned on a thick stick, unable to stand up properly.

"Are ye lookin' te get te Laketown?" he asked, in a heavily accented voice, made all the more noticeable by the fact that he only appeared to have three teeth, "Cuz ye ain't gonna manage it by yelling profanities at the clouds, I can tell ye that fer nothin'" he said, a toothless grin breaking out on his face.

Laketown?

"Is that close to Erebor?" you asked, perhaps this was the place the dwarves had come...

"Aye," the man replied, nodding his head knowingly, "Laketown has lived in the shadow of the misty mountain fer all its long years..."

"How do I get there? To Laketown?" you urged impatiently, sure that this was the place you were headed.

"I can lend ye me boat, lassie," the man offered, and he pointed a gnarled finger out into the large lake that you had managed to miss whilst you were too busy shouting, "She's a good boat, straight and true..."

You rooted in your pockets, and managed to pull out a few golden coins. You didn't remember where they were from, but you hoped they would serve you well today.

"Is this enough?" you asked, proffering your hand out.

The man's eyes widened, "Aye, that'll do..." he answered, snatching the coins out of your hands and inspecting them thoroughly, "She's moored over there," he pointed to the side of the river where a small, wooden boat was tied up.

Sighing, you thanked the old man, and walked over to the boat, untying it and sitting inside, feeling your stomach lurch at the unexpected movement. If you were going to do this, you were going to do it properly. Grabbing the oar firmly, you pushed out from the bank and began to row, keeping in a straight line.

"Watch out Thorin," you muttered, "I'm on my way, and I'm not happy..."


	12. Is It Hot In Here?

Once again Legolas' Point Of View (Slightly nsfw)

* * *

He blinked, groggily coming out of his sleep-ridden state, rubbing his face with his hand. It had been years since he had slept like that, and he felt completely energised. To his surprise, he noticed that his shirt and shoes had been removed, and he was under his silken sheets, instead of lying on top of them.

How odd.

He was sure that he had fallen asleep fully clothed, and spread-eagled out on the bed in a very unprince-like manner.

"Oh, you're awake," he heard a female voice exclaim, and he sat up in bed to see HER walking towards him, in a rather clingy silk chemise, "And here's me thinking that elves didn't NEED to sleep as much as humans..."

He jumped up in shock, scrambling to cover his bare chest with the silken sheets. What was she doing here?

She raised an eyebrow in a mocking gesture, but Legolas was having trouble concentrating on anything she was saying. His eyes lingered over her silk-clad torso. The shimmering fabric clung to her body like a second skin, and the curves and contours of her form were perfectly accentuated by the flattering dress.

"How, how did you get in here?" he asked, his throat dry. He had spent his life fighting orcs and spiders, but his heart was thumping with a terror that he had never felt before.

She laughed, throwing her head back, and sat down on the end of the bed, crossing her legs in a way that made the hem of her dress hitch slightly further up her toned leg. Legolas gulped and tried not to stare.

"I changed my mind," she said simply, "I wanted to be with you."

"You... wanted to be with me?"

"Yes," she replied breathily, crawling up the bed and moving her body on top of Legolas, trapping him with her arms, her palms placed either side of his head, "I wanted to BE with you..."

Her face, now mere inches from Legolas' moved the final distance, and her mouth lightly brushed against his.. His mouth was dry, and he could hear his heart beating in his ears, but he didn't want this to stop. His eyes closed involuntarily, and one of his hands weaved its way into her hair, pulling her closer, whilst the other one moved to rest on the small of her back. He opened her mouth, and gently flicked her tongue with his, causing her to gasp. At the sound of her response, he deepened the kiss further, then moved his lips towards her neck, sucking at a sensitive part just below her ear.

"Legolas," she whispered, and he continued.

"Legolas,"

"Legolas WAKE UP!"

The prince sat up, startled. He was fully clothed, and sat in the centre of his large bed. The human, sadly, was nowhere in sight.

Tauriel stood at the door, hands on her hips, an expression of disgruntled annoyance on her clear face.

"I've been calling you for the last minute, Legolas! God, you're sleeping like a human..."

Legolas stood up groggily, and began tidying his shelves. Anything to take his mind of the dream he had just had. He was old, older than the human could ever imagine, yet some parts of him remained so young.

"Legolas?" said Tauriel, walking towards him, her red hair blowing slightly in the breeze, "Are you well? You seem a bit flushed..."

"No, no I am fine, I assure you," Legolas responded quickly, rubbing his jaw with one hand, trying to take his mind off the images whirling through his over-active mind. She was a trivial affection. Nothing more.

"If you're sure..." replied Tauriel, unconvinced by his answer, "Did you find her? That human girl? The fighter?"

Legolas' heart jumped again at the mention of her, and he quickly turned away, so Tauriel could not see the light flush of shame that he felt creeping up his face.

"No." he replied simply, facing the wall.

The she-elf sighed, and her face turned annoyed, "Legolas you can't lie to me, I've known you too long..."

"I said NO!" he snapped and whirled around, staring angrily at her. She took a step back, surprised by his outburst, and imperceptibly shook her head, then turned around and faced the door.

"Your father wishes to speak with you, Legolas," she said simply, before walking out of the room, and slamming the door closed behind her.

Legolas stood for a minute in shock. He had never been one to lose his temper, especially not around Tauriel. They had grown up together, and she was like a sister to him. It unnerved him that he could be so cold with her.

He sighed, and sat back down on the bed, rubbing his temples. A headache was beginning to form.

He wondered what it was that his father had wanted to speak to him about. Surely, the human girl wasn't that important to him? He had not exactly treated her favourably in their meetings...

Standing up and putting his dark green jacket over his blood-stained tunic (he swore to himself that he would get changed later) he took a deep breath and walked out of the chamber door, mentally preparing himself for whatever rant his father was in the mood to throw at him.

Still reeling from his dream, he walked through the twisting halls of Mirkwood to his father's chambers.


	13. Father, listen

Once again Legolas' point of view. I am SO sorry this took so long to post but I have had kazillions of exams, and unfortunately, revision has taken priority. Kindly tell me what you thought of this chapter up in the lovely review box xx Much love and Leggy-hugs to all xx

* * *

Legolas walked slowly through the winding paths and twisting footways of Mirkwood, his heart still hammering from his most recent dream. The morning light shone through the translucent windows, casting eerie shadows around the halls and unnerving him. He wondered what it was his father could possibly want with him.

He was back wasn't he? Surely wasn't that all that mattered?

He turned another corner, and walked down a dark corridor towards his father's chambers, assuming that was where he would find him.

A single knock on the deep mahogany door.

"Enter," replied Thranduil's soft-as-honey voice, and Legolas took a deep breath, bracing himself before opening the door and walking through, his light footsteps echoing loudly in the quiet room.

Thranduil was stood in the centre of the room, crowned in a headpiece woven from holly branches, his platinum hair cascading down his back and his face grave.

"Legolas," he began, walking towards his son, his silver robes glimmering as they moved, "I am glad to see that you have returned. I was worried about you."

Legolas' blue eyes widened in surprise. His father was not a big fan of feelings, and the last statement was something that Legolas had never heard from him before.

"Father?" he enquired, confused as to the purpose of his visit.

Thranduil looked at him coldly, and walked forwards again, until he was directly in front of his son, eyes blazing.

Legolas stood his ground, and looked up into the eyes of his father, having to crane his neck to be able to see them clearly. Thranduil was incredibly tall.

"The night the dwarves escaped," began Thranduil, his voice filling the room, "There was one prisoner that remained in her cell. I assume you know whom I am referring to?"

Legolas took a deep breath and nodded, holding eye contact, "I don't suppose we have many female prisoners. Yes I know to whom you refer."

"Well then you will also know that we now no longer have the pleasure of her company." scathed Thranduil, his blue eyes icy and cold.

"I have been informed, yes," replied Legolas.

Thranduil sighed and stepped back, crossing his arms and pacing around the room.

"Legolas, I am aware that you set her free. Do not attempt to lie to me."

Legolas' heart beat faster, blood pumping in his eas, and he turned around, facing the door.

"The dwarves had already escaped, father. There was no point in keeping her locked up. There was nothing else she could tell us. So I let her go." he admitted

Thranduil took two long strides forwards and Legolas turned around to face him, leaning his face towards his son.

"That was not your decision to make, Legolas," he hissed.

Legolas shook off his father's grip on his elbow and took a step back from him.

"I repeat, father. There was nothing more she could tell us. I am not comfortable with locking a woman up in a cell for no reason."

Thranduil sighed.

"Legolas. You have feelings for this woman."

It was a statement, not a question.

Legolas' heart was beating so fast he could hardly her himself think, his breath caught in his throat. He managed to put on an offended face, and scoff to his father, with much difficulty.

"Don't be absurd. She's a human. I merely do not wish to abandon all of my chivalry." he responded through gritted teeth.

A flash of relief crossed Thranduil's perfect features at his son's instant answer, though he quickly masked it with a blank expression.

"Good." he replied, "Obviously you know that I would never allow any type of relationship between you and her."

"Of course, Father." replied Legolas. Thranduil was picky with suitors, even from his own kind, he would never permit anything to happen.

"She is a human, after all."

Thranduil said the word 'human' with disgust, as if it were the worst word imaginable, and Legolas inwardly cringed at his harsh tone.

"Am I permitted to leave?" asked Legolas, turning to the door, already knowing the answer. The brief conversation was over.

"Yes. Thank you" replied Thranduil, and his son nodded and opened the door.

Before he left, Thranduil called his name one last time.

"Legolas, when you were away, where did you go? What did you do? You were gone for five days."

Legolas sighed. He had thought he had managed to escape, but apparently not.

"I was scouting, father." he replied, keeping his back turned, "The spiders have moved in from the North. I killed as many as I could, then returned home."

Thranduil nodded, happy with his answer.

"You can go now"

Legolas exited the room, and closed the door behind him, letting out a sigh of relief. That had been close. He could hardly have told his father that he had been cavorting around the woods with a human woman for five days, could he?

Whilst walking back to his chambers, the intent to apologise to Tauriel for his harsh reaction earlier on his mind, he began to wonder what the strange human woman was doing, and how she fared.

He imagined her sailing to Lake-town and being watched by hungry, bloodthirsty orc-eyes from all directions. Her small form curled in on itself against the cold as she rowed further and further away from the banks of the forest. Legolas shivered unintentionally, unhappy at the image his mind had conjured up. The last fantasy he had had of her was considerably nicer.

Sighing as he reached his chambers, he opened the thick mahogany door and walked towards his bookshelf, crammed with more books than a human or dwarf could read in a lifetime. Something was needed to pass the time, and to get his mind off that girl, and ancient elvish literature was the only option at the moment.


	14. A Long Journey

Thank you for all the reviews! We broke 20! Yay!

* * *

You shifted your position in the boat, pushed a sweaty lock of hair out of your face, tightened your grip on the oar, and kept rowing. The man who had rented you his boat had told you that it would take you about ten to twelve hours to cross this lake, rowing at a fast pace, and by the appearance of the sun, you had been rowing for at least 10.

The sun had set behind the flat horizon hours ago and your upper arms felt as if they were on fire, but you kept rowing. The thought of kicking the living shit out of Thorin Oakenshield kept you going.

You still found it hard to believe that he had chosen to abandon you in the way that he did. His parting words, 'I had no choice' echoed in your head, but you could see no logic behind them. Despite being, as Thorin had often referred to you, a 'mere woman', you had proven beyond doubt that you were a skilled fighter, and an excellent aim with a throwing knife.

Ok, so you couldn't cook to save your life, but that didn't seem to be a good enough reason to abandon you.

As you rowed, your mind wandered to other things, specifically the tall, blonde elf you had spent the last few days with. A small smirk crossed your mouth you imagined him stutteringly explaining his five-day absence to his father, Thranduil. It was intriguing to see how two people, even a father and son, can be so totally different.

Thranduil was like ice. Hard and cold and flawlessly chiselled, never a hair out-of-place or an emotion shown. Legolas, his son, on the other hand, was fire. Once you had squeezed your way past his crispy exterior, he was passionate, chatty and funny. You truly enjoyed your time his company, and even though it appeared to be over, you doubted that you would forget about him in a hurry.

A bright, yellow light on the horizon brought you out of your train of thought and you quickly identified the source as the gates to Laketown. Rowing your small boat further forwards, silently cursing as your stiff arms took the strain, that would hurt tomorrow, you heard a voice call out to you.

"Who goes there?"

Crap. You hadn't expected this. You had hoped to just be let in without any hassle. But honestly, when had anything in your life happened without any hassle...

"A visitor!" you called back, hoping to keep your response as vague as possible.

"And who might you be visiting?"

You turned your head and found the source of the noise, a greasy, bent-over man with one single eyebrow that stretched from one side of his face to the other. You wrinkled your nose involuntarily. He stank of fish.

"A friend." you replied, keeping your voice steady.

He was about to interrupt when you cut him off.

"-Please, I've had a very long journey, and I would really like to get some sleep..."

As usual, you hated playing the 'innocent female' card, but it seemed to work this time. You even batted your eyelashes for added effect.

The man leered at you and your tried to hide your disgust.

"I don't usually allow this," he drawled, "But in the case of a pretty lady, I'll make an exception..."

You smiled thankfully, attempting not to throw up in revulsion, and rowed on.

Eventually, you found a place to tie up your boat, and stepped out of it onto slippery cobbled stones. Craning your neck to one side, you heard raucous laughter and out of tune singing that could only belong to dwarves, so you headed towards a large tavern.

Golden light spewed out from the musky windows and the very rafters seemed to shake with the heavy, stamping feet of those inside.

Peering through one of the windows curiously, you spotted Bofur downing an entire tankard of mead in one sitting to the applause of an encaptured crowd. Yes. This was definitely the right place.

Straightening your jacket and smoothing down your soaking wet hair, you stood in front of the entrance, knife in hand. Taking a shuddering breath and nodding your head, you kicked the door hard, and it swung back on its hinges.

"THORIN OAKENSHIELD!" you yelled.


	15. In which Thorin is a total bitch

"THORIN OAKENSHIELD!" you yelled.

At once, a silence fell upon the room. The musicians dwindled their playing to a halt and the friendly chatter died immediately. Every eye in the room turned to look at you.

You took a quick glance around the room, and your hand instinctively moved down to lay above one of the many throwing knives attached to your belt. It was a force of habit, your fist instinct in any confrontation was to attack. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you stepped forwards, your wet shoes squeaking with muddy rainwater on the dry, wooden floor.

"I wish to speak with Thorin Oakenshield." you stated, much more calmly this time. There was silent fury behind your words, and the people standing directly in front of you wisely stepped to the side to avoid your wrath.

"I am here," came a gruff voice from the other side of the room.

A low murmur filled the air as men and women moved from the centre of the floor to nearer the walls, clearing a path between you and Thorin. The Dwarvish King stood before you, looking directly into your eyes. He placed his tankard of mead down on the table beside him.

He looked bad, you had to admit it. He was standing tall, well, as tall as he could manage, but his face was covered in cuts and bruises. Apparently, riding in those wine barrels had taken its toll on him.

You noticed his blue eyes stray to your forehead, which was still wrapped in the bloody remnants of a strip of Legolas' cloak. As well as this, your bare arms were covered in bruises, and dark circles underlined your tired eyes.

Thorin must have been thinking the same thing about you.

"What happened to your head?" he asked, his thick brow narrowing in confusion as he gestured towards your bandaged skull.

"I hit it on a rock," you responded curtly, "Jumping into a moving river to try to catch up with you."

Your tone was accusatory, but you couldn't help yourself. You were pent up with silent fury at this dwarf. The dwarf that you had given up your whole life to assist, and the dwarf who had dumped you behind at a moment's notice.

"(Your name)," Thorin begun, but you cut him off.

"-Why?" The question was a simple one, but Thorin's face twisted with pain. You already knew the answer, Thorin had said as much to Gandalf. You were a woman, and apparently 'unable', at least in the eyes of the Dwarvish King.

He sighed deeply, looking much older than you remembered him.

"This is a dangerous mission."

"-NO!" you yelled at him suddenly, causing him to step back in shock, "ENOUGH WITH ALL THIS PROTECTION BULLSHIT! I HAVE BEEN KILLING ORCS SINCE I COULD WALK, I'M PERFECTLY CAPABLE!"

The outburst had surprised even you, and you saw Thorin's eyes widen at your wrath. He had never seen you so angry before.

There was a snort from your side and you whirled around furiously, knife in hand, to see Fili hiding a smirk.

"You think this is funny?" you hissed icily at him, and at once, his smile evaporated.

"I had to seek help from that elvish princeling!" you snarled at Thorin, knowing that the information would rile him.

It had the desired effect.

Thorin's mouth dropped open, and his fists unwillingly clenched.

"Thranduil's boy?" he asked in a strained voice.

You tapped at the bandage wrapped around your head, and winced as pain flooded your skull.

"Does this look like dwarvish fabric to you?" you asked.

Thorin hissed in barely concealed rage. Your plan to infuriate him was working.

"He tended to your wounds?" he asked, his voice barely keeping steady. The thought of an elf assisting any of his company made his blood boil.

"Yes," you replied calmly, stepping forwards towards him, raising the knife in your hand.

The small crowd of Laketown dwellers surrounding you took an audible gasp.

"In fact," you continued, "He was of much more use to me than you have ever been."

That was it. That was the last straw for Thorin.

A low roar came from him as he leapt forwards, but you side-stepped him and backfisted him hard in the kidneys, and he went down, wheezing.

Comparing Thorin to an elf, especially one of Mirkwood descent, would have been the height of all insults to him, but insinuating that the elf was better than him sent Thorin into a blind rage.

As soon as you had thrown the first punch, Fili ran forwards and grabbed you from behind with his tree-trunk arms.

"Calm down," he whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck, but you were too angry to listen to him.

Slamming your head backwards into his nose, and feeling extremely satisfied by the pained grunt that came from behind you, you wriggled out of his grasp and turned again to Thorin, who had recovered, and was standing up.

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, his voice steady and hands raised.

"I DO NOT NEED PROTECTION!" you yelled at him again, "GANDALF TRUSTED ME TO JOURNEY WITH YOU, AND THAT IS WHAT I AM GOING TO DO!"

"I do not want the death of a woman on my hands," replied Thorin, and you let forth a furious cry, before running at him again.

Before you had a chance to do any lasting damage, a terrible pain exploded from the back of your skull, and everything went blank.

* * *

Fili dropped the large tankard he had used to knock the young woman out on the floor, disgusted with himself.

"Nice one," murmured Bombur, passing him and clapping him on the back.

"What are we going to with her then?" a voice asked, and Fili turned to his uncle, who looked at the crumpled human on the floor, and surprisingly, bent down and carefully picked her up.

Her limp form moulded to his thick body, and Thorin looked almost guilty as he carried her from the room.

"I will leave her at the boatman's house with Kili," he said, loud enough for everyone to hear, "If she decides to come with us in the morning, it is her choice.

Fili jolted at the mention of his brother, guilt flooding him as he remembered leaving the younger dwarf with the boatman's eldest daughter, who had promised to take care of him. Kili was sick, and Fili doubted if he would be able to travel with the group tomorrow. If not, he would stay with him. He belonged with his brother.

Rubbing his aching nose, the girl had head-butted him pretty hard, Fili followed his uncle outside towards the house of the boatman, hoping that he hadn't hit her too harshly... she'd have a headache in the morning...


	16. Dealing With Blockheads

Thank you to Alesia, Everlastingsakura, kittykawaii4, Brackenfern, Destiny Rain Evans, SeriousSavage, Tiggerlilly, DarkMarceline, daydreamer0001, RougeReaper, PureAngelEyes, Nieriel Raina, MadamRed1716, GimliTheGoblinMutant, ellesmerjoe3 and all of the guest reviews. You guys keep me writing xxx

Legolas' Point Of View.

* * *

Legolas walked through the corridors and twisting paths of his home, anxiously pacing to take his mind off things. Thranduil had been angry at him for letting the prisoner go, and in his anger, had forbidden Legolas from leaving the Mirkwood halls.

The other elvish guards had also been quarantined, but Legolas could not help but feel that his father's orders were because of himself.

Now he had nothing to do but pace around aimlessly, trying to quell the growing sense of nervousness in his gut. He hadn't seen Tauriel since the morning that he had lost his temper at her, and he was desperate to apologise.

He had been unduly angry with her, and she hadn't deserved it. The stress of the increasing threat of the spiders from the North coupled with the confusion he felt towards that human girl had caused him to be irritable.

After his talk with Thranduil, Legolas had walked up to Tauriel's chambers, but had not found her. He then travelled back down to his own chambers, but she was not there either. Now he was aimlessly pacing the corridors, hoping to see her walk past somewhere. He wondered where she could have gone. It made no sense.

Unless...

No...

She couldn't...

But yes she could. If anyone was to sneak out of the castle to go on a hunting trip, it would be her. Legolas quickly grabbed his bow from the floor and took off towards the nearest exit.

He ran on silent feet through the twists and turns of Mirkwood, keeping well out of sight of any guards, before reaching a large, closed gate.

"No-one may pass," stated the burly, elvish guard, a long spear held in one hand.

Legolas sighed. It was typical bad luck to get what he and Tauriel called a 'blockhead' guard. All brawn and no brain made for a good footsoldier, but a terrible general. Legolas knew that he would have a tough time trying to get past this one.

Taking a breath to mask his annoyance, he walked up to the man, who stood at least a head taller than him.

"I'm assuming you recognise me?" Legolas asked icily, trying to look as intimidating as he could. It was tricky, considering the fact that the guard was twice his size.

"Yes, I do," responded the guard, shuffling his feet, but keeping eye contact, "But I have my orders, your majesty..."

"I am aware of that." Legolas interrupted, getting annoyed, "However I have a friend who left on a hunting trip, and I wish to assist her."

"The king has ordered me to-"

"Lady Tauriel is one of the best fighters in this realm." Legolas butted in, his fists clenching in anger.

"Then surely she'll be fine until she comes back-"

"IF she comes back." Legolas snapped, finally losing control, "And who do you think my father will blame if I wasn't there to assist her in fighting those beasts?"

The guard stopped, and Legolas sighed, pratically watching the rusty cogs in his primitive brain work it out.

"You will assist her then come straight back?" asked the guard, not wanting to face the wrath of Thranduil.

"You have my word," assured Legolas, as the guard unlocked the large mahogany doors and allowed the elvin prince to walk out onto the stone bridge outside.

Legolas had managed to get out, now he just had to find Tauriel in the mass of forest before him.

Fabulous.

"I thought you were an orc," admitted Tauriel, lowering her bow from Legolas' chest.

He had managed to find her, standing on the edge of a cliff, the light breeze blowing her auburn hair out of her face. Legolas had sneaked up on her.

"If I were an orc," he answered, walking towards her, "You would be dead."

She smirked at him, and he smiled.

"I apologise for the way I spoke to you this morning," he continued, "I was tired, and stressed. It was unfair of me to take it out on you."

Tauriel dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand.

"It's alright, Legolas, you're worried about her. I understand"

Legolas froze.

"I... what?"

"That human girl? You only lost your temper when I mentioned her, Legolas." Tauriel explained, a small smile appearing at the corner of her mouth.

"That's ridiculous." scoffed Legolas.

"Then I suppose you don't want to join me in following those orcs to Laketown?" Tauriel teased, "You know, because you don't care about what happens to her..."

"You're going to Laketown?" asked Legolas, shocked that Tairiel would disobey his father's direct orders.

"Yes." she replied, fiddling with a small dagger in her hand, "I have no fondness for dwarves, but I do not wish for them to die..."

Legolas smirked to himself. He had noticed the way in which Tauriel looked at the younger dwarf, the black-haired archer. If she wished to deny it to herself, so be it.

"Fine. I shall go with you." he answered, trying to stop his heart from jumping as he thought about the prospect of meeting the human girl again. He hoped that she had managed to find her way successfully to Laketown. He had sent her along a path that would cause her to run into Johnny Shawn, the old boat-salesman. If his plan had worked, she would have hired a boat, and arrived at Laketown by now.

Tauriel nodded, a knowing smile on her face, and began running, quickly followed by Legolas, towards the lake.

There was only one thing of which he was certain. His father was going to KILL him when he got back...


	17. I'm Waking Up (to ash and dust)

Much love to daydreamer001, kittykawaii4, Alesia, DestinyrainEvans, Lriel and all of the guest reviews for telling me what you thought xx

* * *

"Uuughhh," you groaned as you sat up groggily, a sharp pain shooting through your skull. You lifted your hand up to your head, trying to ease the throbbing.

Immediately, your mind wandered to where you had been last, and you vaguely remembered a large bar, packed with dwarves. An argument with Thorin.

Looking around you at the cosy room, filled with old wooden furniture, the events of last night began to return to you. A vague sense of dread overwhelmed you as you recalled lunging for Thorin's neck, being held back by Fili. You had been ready to attack again, but felt an excruciating pain in the back of your head, before passing out.

You had felt that pain before. You had been hit by something, and pretty hard as well.

Standing up on shaky legs, you walked around the room, picking up and examining artefacts that you came across. A large fish hook, old but sturdy, lay on a wooden desk next to a jar of pickled herrings. A fat book bound in leather rested alone on a weary, creaky bookshelf.

You spun around quickly as you heard the door begin to open. Fili walked in sheepishly, his shoulders low, his usual swagger masked.

"(Your name)," he began, almost guilty.

You understood his sheepish demeanour immediately.

"YOU!" you shouted, pointing at him with an accusatory finger, "You knocked me out!"

Taking a large step forwards, you intended on repaying him the favour, but with your head injury, you lost balance and stumbled. Fili quickly ran forward to hold you up, his thick fingers twisting around your upper arms to keep you steady.

"I'm sorry." he stated simply, guilt masking his face, "I didn't really want to see you murdering my uncle, no matter how much he annoys me..."

At that, you couldn't help but grin, and you wrapped your arms around Fili, burying your face in the top of his head.

"I missed you, you total troll-brain." you snorted, releasing him and rubbing his arm friendlily.

"Yeah, I'm sure you did," he replied, looking relieved that you had forgiven him so easily.

"Nice hit..." you muttered, rubbing the back of your head and wincing.

"Really sorry about that..." he repeated, his face flushing red, "I didn't know how else to do it..."

You waved away his apology noncomittaly, happy just to be reunited with your friend. Fili had been a brilliant companion during the many weeks you had spent on this quest. The young dwarf and his brother brought you much needed laughter and joy during the endeavour, where you only found anger elsewhere.

Your brow wrinkled in confusion.

Something was wrong.

If Fili was standing here in front of you, where was his pain-in-the-ass little brother? The two could barely ever be separated, it made no sense that Fili would come to greet you on his own.

"Where is Kili?" you asked, and the reaction on the face of the blonde-haired dwarf in front of you broke your heart. His head dropped and shoulders stooped and you could have sworn that you saw fat tears glistening in the corers of his eyes.

No.

Not Kili.

He couldn't be...

"He is wounded," replied Fili finally, and a sigh of relief ran through your whole body. Wounded. But still alive.

You remembered the fight at the river, and how he had been hit by an arrow from one of those foul creatures. The practice of dipping arrow-tips in poison was a perverse and frowned-upon one, but the poison used by the orcs was more terrible than all. If Kili had truly been hit by one of these arrows, he did not have a lot of time left. You saw on the face of Fili that he knew this fact already. He was ready for his brother to die any minute.

"Can I see him?" you asked gently, placing a warm hand on Fili's shoulder as a comforting gesture.

He nodded and led you out of the room towards his ill brother. You took a deep breath and readied yourself for the sight. Kili was too young. Too innocent to die in such a way.

Fili led you into a large main room, with a single bed in the centre of it. Even from your distance, you couldn't miss the scent of rotting meat and the feeble wails of pain. Bile rose to your throat as you saw him, pale as the night, with eyes that were so bloodshot, the whites had turned to a sea of blood.

"Oh Kili..."

It was just at that moment, that an arrow flew through the open window and thudded into the wooden panel beside your head, a hair's breadth from your skull.

They had found you


	18. The big reunuion

As a heartfelt apology for submitting such a teeny tiny chapter last time, here is your next one slightly earlier than usual.

Thank you very much to:

Alesia: MuahahaHAHAHAHA I AM EVIL! Here is your next chappy though, hope you enjoy it xx

Tiggerlilly: Thank you THANK YOU!

Brackenfern: Thanks J If you hadn't guessed already, I'm a big fan of cliffhangers.

Kittykawaii4: Thank you! (And yes, I thought I'd shove a cheeky imaginedragons reference in there ;)

Texas Bobcat: Thanks very much for your review!

Destiny Rain Evans: Thank you! It's people like you that keep me writing! Xx

Also thank you to the guest reviews!

(WE BROKE 50 REVEIWS YEAH)

* * *

(Legolas' POV)

A shrill scream pierced the air, and Legolas froze, his blood turning to ice. It was a woman's scream, high pitched and ear-shattering, but it was not _her _scream. A part of him was relieved, but the other part of him was desperate to forsake his hiding place and go and help the woman. He had the element of surprise, and was waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

He wished will all his being that somehow, she was not here. Maybe she had got lost on the way; maybe she had changed her mind and turned back. He knew that his hopes were probably in vain. She could be as stubborn as a dwarf when she wanted to be.

The boatman's house was swarming with orcs, they were crawling over rooftops and through the thin streets trying to reach it. Legolas wondered if Oakenshileld was in there, fighting, or if he had already set off on his mission.

The noise of metal clanging on metal rose from the small house, punctuated by grunts and gasps, as well as the occasional scream from that woman.

Suddenly, a different sound reached his sensitive ears. A quiet gasp of pain. A woman's voice. A voice he _knew._

At the sound, he leapt forwards, hiding place long forsaken, and sprinted towards the small house, armed with his bow and longsword. Without a second thought, he jumped through the already shattered window of the boatman's house.

Looking around himself, he knew that they were already in trouble. The young, black-haired dwarf, Dili or Vili or Kili or something, Legolas could not remember his name, was lying on a large, makeshift bed. His pale face was as white as the sheets he was resting on. He was obviously ill, very ill.

The entire room had been overturned, chairs were broken and shards of glass from the window littered the floor. The dwarf's brother, (Tili? Fili?) was twisting and turning with more grace than he could ever expect from a dwarf, his moustace-braids flying as he impaled orc after orc with a long, mean-looking dagger.

A grunt from behind him alerted him of an orc, and he spun, knife in hand, and cleanly sliced through the bone and sinew of its worthless neck, leaving the decapitated head to roll onto the floor, the body quickly crumpling down over it.

As he turned once more, he saw two more orcs advancing towards him, he easily side-stepped the first blow, and dug his sword deep into its belly, but didn't spin around in time to kill the other one. Its dagger was aimed directly at the back of his head.

A soft 'thunk' came from behind him, and he whirled around quickly. He started when he noticed the orc so close to him, but was even more surprised when he saw the short, sharp dagger sticking out from the centre of its skull. There was only one person Legolas knew who could throw like that.

"Miss me?" came a familiar voice, as she ran past him, another knife in her hand. She let it go, and it embedded itself directly in the chest of another orc.

He laughed in disbelief, a mixture of joy at seeing her and worry from her being in this fight flooded through his veins. Yes. He had missed her. Immensely.

The piercing scream from before came from his left, and he turned to see a young woman, probably the boatman's daughter, hit a large orc over the head with a saucepan, and then promptly scream again when its limp body crumpled to the floor in front of her. Before he had a chance to help her, the woman by his side had already run over.

* * *

YOUR POV

You noticed the girl scream and immediately ran over to help her. She would be dead in minutes if she kept that up.

"Ok, ok," you said calmly, holding her shoulders, "I want you to get your siblings, and I want you to hide, alright?"

She nodded through tear-filled eyes, and grabbed her younger sister and brother, dragging them out of the room.

(YOUR NAME)!" yelled Legolas, and you spun around again, dagger up, just in time to slice the throat of another orc. Hot, thick blood covered your face and chest, but you ignored it. Leaping over the slumped body of the creature, you ran outside, closely followed by Legolas.

Outside of the house it was slightly quieter, and you had time to catch your breath before looking up into his face.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

He winced. He had been expecting that reaction.

"I'm here to help you." He relied simply, then his face turned hard, "GET DOWN!"

You ducked, and saw him thread an arrow, and then loosen it. It flew past your head and into the skull of another orc, running across the bridge towards you, knife raised.

Standing up slowly and panting heavily, you looked up into his eyes.

"You saved my life..." you muttered.

"Just repaying the favour."

You smiled at that, and grabbed another knife from off your belt, testing the weight of it in your hand.

"Where's ginger?" you asked him, absent-mindedly twiddling the weapon in your fingers.

He smirked at your choice of wording.

"She has gone to help your dwarf-friend." He responded, "The black-haired archer."

"Kili," you whispered, and Legolas nodded.

"I knew it was something that rhymed with that..."

You smiled again.

"I had the same problem the first time I met those dwarves," you admitted, "I spent three weeks calling Bifur 'Sniffer' and Bombur 'Bottom'..."

An unexpected guffaw of laughter came from the elf, and you jumped in surprise. You had seen him laugh before, but never _this_ heartfelt. There were even small tears forming in the creases of his eyes, as he roared, his whole body shaking with it.

He placed a warm hand on your shoulder to steady himself, and looked down into your eyes, his blue ones glistening with joy.

"I've missed this..."

* * *

Thanks once again for reading/following/favouriting/reviewing xxx You are all amazing x


	19. Of Broken Ribs and Split Lips

First of all, thank you for all being so patient for this next chapter. You are all lovely people. As always, thank you to everyone who reviewed.

Alesia: Thank you sweetie! :)

Tiggerlilly: Muahaha I am evil... Don't worry... there is still much more to come ;)

misskatrine: OMG THANK YOU! That is probably the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me :')

VanimLeofara: Well, let's wait and see... ;) your prayers may soon be answered...

kittykawaii: Thanks :) And Leggy is a cutie, isn't he?

Texas Bobcat: Thank you :)

Harley Quin and KD: Thanks a lot :)

Destiny Rain Evans: Thank you once again for such a lovely review xx :)

DrMoustachioGirl: (i.e. my irl friend who left a lovely review) Cheers lad.

Thank you also to all the guest reviews and to my new followers/favouriters. Hello there! Welcome to the madness.

Okey dokey on with the story.

* * *

"So Thorin has already left for the Lonely Mountain?" you asked Fili angrily, a pint of ale in one hand.

After the fight, you had searched for Thorin and the rest of the company, but could not find them. Naturally, you had turned to Fili to enquire as to their whereabouts, but he had informed you that they were already long gone. Decidedly pissed off and very thirsty, he had led you and Legolas to a small tavern for a drink.

"Yeah," replied Fili, taking a swig of what you assumed was his third tankard, "They set off this morning, before you woke up."

You sighed.

"Typical," you muttered.

Of course, if given a chance to leave you behind, Thorin would grasp it with both hands.

Fili's eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Actually," he said, "Thorin was keen for you to come along..."

You scoffed in derision and pushed a loose strand of hair out of your face. Yeah right...

"Honestly." Fili emphasised, "The night when you attacked him. He carried you the whole way back to Bard's house. He told us that, if you were able, you were to come with him to the mountain. I don't know what came over him. He seemed to agree with the things you said to him."

"You mean when I told him he was of less worth to me than an elf?"

"I mean when you told him you were capable and he should trust you." replied Fili.

"You're shitting me."

A snort from your side brought your attention to Legolas, who was looking decidedly worse for wear. A thick purple bruise covered half of his face, and his usually immaculate hair was matted with blood and dirt. You gave him a look, already guessing the reason for his amusement.

"Always so eloquent..." he mumbled, earning a stiff elbow to the ribs from you.

He winced. Surely you didn't elbow him _that _hard...

"Don't be such a princess." you teased him, and he raised an eyebrow at you.

Silently, he lifted the side of his tunic up to expose his side. You took an involuntary gasp. The pale white skin covering the lean muscle and sinew of his torso was marred with black and purple staining. It ran from just under his armpit to just above his hip. He was a canvas, painted in bruises.

Fili hissed in sympathy.

"Broken ribs?" he asked.

Legolas merely nodded and replaced his tunic, "Three."

A low whistle came from Fili, who then placed his tankard on the bar and stood up from his chair. Even standing, his head was barely taller than Legolas'.

"I'm off for the night" He stated, placing three coins on the bar and patting Legolas cautiously on his shoulder, "Sorry about the... you know..." he gestured to the elf's torso with one hand.

Legolas merely smiled and nodded his head, "Sleep well, dwarf."

"You too, elfling."

With that, he walked out, tottering slightly. You couldn't help but smile.

This was a dwarf who, two days ago, couldn't stand even the mention of elves. He had grown up on stories of their treachery and cowardice, and Thorin had been sure to constantly remind him that they were not to be trusted. Be that as it may, here he was sharing a drink with an elf, and discussing battle wounds. Not just any elf, but the son of Thranduil, his uncle's worst enemy.

You turned to Legolas.

"How come you two are so pally all of a sudden?" you asked him, taking a small drink.

He merely raised an eyebrow at you. Of course, he didn't understand your way of speaking. Elvish colloquialisms and all that.

"You and Fili." you reiterated, simplifying your language, "You seem friendly. I thought that-"

"Ah, the dwarf," Legolas said, nodding in understanding.

"His brother, you know, was very sick. My friend, Tauriel, saved his life. He may hate our race, but he cannot hate the creatures that kept his brother from dying."

You nodded silently in understanding. Fili would do anything for Kili, and vice versa. The two brothers were inseparable.

You both fell into silence then, slowly drinking your tankards of ale. Legolas seemed decidedly less impressed with his. He was used to fine elvish wine, matured in oak barrels for years and served in glass flutes to drink under starlight, not ale with an unidentifiable scum on the top, drunk out of wooden tankards surrounded by burly fisherman.

Eventually, you decided to break the silence, bored with staring at the bottom of an empty mug. Your brain worked to think of something intelligent to say.

"So, your ribs then, huh?"

Smooth. Really smooth. Why did you fall ill to verbal constipation whenever you were in close proximity to this elf? It was ridiculous.

He smirked once again at your eloquence, but nodded and tilted his head to the side.

"You can not expect to come out of a fight with creatures such as those unscathed." he reasoned, his smooth baritone voice filling the space around you.

You snorted at that, "Yeah, you can say that again..."

Grabbing the edge of your left sleeve with your right hand, you lifted the fabric up to expose your forearm, then turned your palm upwards. exposing the smooth skin of your wrist. A thick, deep gash ran from your inner elbow to halfway down your forearm. The blood had dried and rusted around the sides of the wound, giving it a jagged look.

Legolas hissed audibly, and grabbed your arm firmly, his long fingers digging into your skin. You winced in pain and he immediately loosened his grip.

"How did you get this?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Orc blade," you responded simply, "I didn't move fast enough."

Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, before letting your arm fall.

"You should get that bandaged," he said, "It could easily get infected."

You rolled you eyes at him.

"I've had worse than _that, _Legolas."

He jolted slightly when you said his name, but quickly recovered himself, and turned to face you again.

"You... you split your lip..." he mumbled, lifting his hand to your face.

Your whole body froze as his pale finger came to rest just under your lip, the warmth leaching into your cold skin. His finger touched something moist, and you prayed to any God who was out there listening that it was blood from your split lip and not just that you had drooled all over yourself. Every nerve ending felt as if it were on fire as the rough pad of his finger rubbed just below your bottom lip. You felt slightly dizzy, but then realised that it was because you had completely forgotten how to breathe.

After what seemed like forever, he removed his hand, and you noticed the tip of his finger was covered in blood. So you hadn't just dribbled on an elvish prince. Thank fuck.

Your eyes met his, and you were shocked to see that his pupils were blown so big you could hardly see the blue of his irises. He was drunk. Very drunk. But somehow, you didn't mind.

"I just don't want you to get hurt..." he muttered again, almost to himself, as he leaned in towards you and cupped your face with one hand. Shit. Was this really happening?

His face drew closer to yours, and your heart leapt so loudly in your chest you were surprised it didn't just jump out of your throat. Very slowly, he touched his lips to yours. Barely a brush, but as your lips rubbed his, you could swear that an electric shock ran straight down your spine.

Your mouth was dry. What the fuck was going on?

Legolas leaned backwards in his chair and blinked slightly, as if coming to his senses. His face flushed red, a colour you had never seen on him before.

"I...I'm sorry... please forgive me..." he stammered, a smidge of blood from your lip staining his chin, before standing up in a hurry and rushing out of the room, forgetting to pay for his drink, and leaving you at alone on a rusty bar stool.

You took a deep breath, and closed your eyes. What was happening to you? What the fuck was happening? This was an elf. AN ELF.

Placing two coins on the bar, you stood up, and wobbled slightly in your place, before walking out of the door in a daze.

He was drunk. He didn't mean it. He was just being friendly. Those thoughts kept whirling around in your head, but you couldn't believe any of them. The way his touch had sparked a reaction in you was not the reaction you would have with a _friend_.

As you walked back to the Boatman's house, your mind screaming with possibilities and excuses, one single thought kept coming back to you.

_"What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"_

* * *

Thank you for reading! (And there is a kiss yay) (although he is technically drunk) (and it was a bit of a crappy kiss) but whatever.

Please tell me what you thought of this chapter

(It was a bit of a filler chapter I know... *hangs head in shame*)

Anyway it is finally happening!

*sings* _Caaaaannn you feeelllll the loooove toniiiightttttt!_


	20. The Calm Before The Storm

*Macklemore Voice* what what what what I'M BACK HELLO

After watching BoTFA, which I am not ashamed to say that I burst into tears at, I have returned to the land of fanfiction.

Thank you all for being so patient... This chapter begins when the dragon is woken.

* * *

A low rumble filled the dark, cold night, and you groaned, and sat up, rubbing your eyes. If Fili had eaten that whole chicken and ended up with indigestion, he wasn't going to get any sympathy from you, that was for sure...

"Fili?" you whispered into the darkness, "If that's your bloody stomach, I swear to the Valar..."

"Shh!" Came the unexpectedly curt reply, "That wasn't me."

You knotted your brow in confusion, and climbed out of your make-shift floor-bed, Bard had been kind enough to put you up for the night. You paced towards the window, your soft leather boots making little sound on the wooden floorboards, and gazed out into the black, starless night.

A thick, dark shape twisted and writhed in the sky, casting a shadow onto the lake below. That horrible rumbling ensued again, much louder this time, making the glasses on the thick wooden table rattle with the vibrations. A black thundercloud. It had to be.

That's all you needed, in a town surrounded by a lake. More bloody water.

"It's just a thunderstorm, Fili." you concluded, walking away from the window, "Get back to sleep."

"Pretty big thunderstorm," he mumbled to himself, before pulling the thin sheet further up around him to cover his broad shoulder.

You nodded in agreement, but he was already gone, snoring softly in the quiet night air. Wide awake now, you sat at the large table, plonking yourself down on one of the carved wooden chairs, and thought about _him_.

You had seen Legolas briefly, the day after the orc-pack had attacked Lake-Town. He had come up to you, handed you a long, elvish dagger, and told you to look after yourself. You weren't exactly expecting him to confess his undying love for you after his drunken kiss at the bar, but you were at least expecting some sort of explanation. Instead, all you received was an awkward 'I will return shortly', accompanied by the reddest face you had ever seen on an elf.

If elves were supposed to be constantly calm and composed, then you had to admit, you appeared to be having an adverse affect on Legolas.

The rumbling grew louder, and the vibrations running through the house became so violent that a glass tumbler toppled off the mantelpiece and smashed onto the floor, emitting a loud crash. The dwarves woke with a start.

"Wha-?" muttered Bofur, his jaunty hat tipped sideways across one of his eyes.

"It's just a thunderst-"

Your voice was cut off by a single, high-pitched scream. A blood-curdling scream of pure terror. Your right hand instinctively flew to your belt, where you wrapped it around one of your trusty daggers.

"That's no thunderstorm, lass." whispered Bofur,his sword now gripped tightly in his hand, "That, is a dragon."

* * *

"WAKE UP! WAKE UP!" You shouted, running through the house.

Turning a corner, you bumped into Tauriel. Her flawless face wore a mask of surprise as she took you in, your hair messily falling out of a makeshift bun, strands sticking to your face with sweat.

You supposed it was just your fate to always feel inferior when surrounded by elves.

"The dragon," you panted, "It is woken."

Her eyes widened, and she nodded, "We must get the children to safety."

She then turned on her heel, and ran down the corridor, knocking on the doors of Bard's children.

"How?" You muttered to yourself, "How can she look so beautiful in a state of chaos?"

"I can't answer that." came a low voice from your left, and you jumped, and spun around, coming face to face with Kili, the young black-haired dwarf whose life had been saved by the healing powers of Tauriel.

You smirked, "Just because you're in _looovee_," you teased, elbowing him playfully in the ribs.

His face turned the colour of a beetroot, and he muttered something under his breath.

"What was that you said?" you continued playfully, "Do you offer me insult, Son of Dis?"

"I said," replied Kili, smirking mischievously, "That makes _two_ of us in love with elves."

And with that bombshell, he ran off towards the front of the house, where Tauriel no doubt had a boat waiting to sail them away to safer waters.

"Quickly, we must hurry!" Shouted Bofur, as he leaped into the boat, followed hastily by Bard's three young children.

The bowman himself, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Bard?" You asked, looking left and right, but to no avail.

All around you was panic. Old men and women being trampled underfoot by faster, younger Lake-people, all running to boats. The dark shape overhead had got closer, and you could now tell that the horrific beast was, in fact, a dragon. It's tremendous wings blew a hurricane through the small town with each flap, and the creature's belly was turning ominously fire-coloured...

You helped Kili in, still weak from his brush with death earlier, then pulled out your dagger and turned to leave.

"(Your name)," yelled Tauriel, sat gracefully at the small boat's helm, a large oar in her slender hands, "You must get in. We have to leave now!"

"No!" you shouted back, struggling to be heard over the sounds of screaming, "I have to get as many of these people out as I can!"

Tauriel looked solemnly at you, and you nodded forcefully. She tilted her head, and pushed off from the bank, her strong arms rowing the small boat away, until it was no more than a speck in the murky distance.

"Ok," you said to yourself, "Let's do this..."

Turning on your heel, you fled towards the inner city, as the dragon loomed overhead, opened it's mighty jaws, and blew a whirling fireball right through the centre of the town.

* * *

Ugh a cliffhanger I'm sorry... BUT IM BACK! Please R&amp;R xxx


	21. In Which You are Surprisingly Heroic

Oh God why are these taking me so long to write. I'm sorry I am total trash.

Thank you to all the reviews, faves and follows. I love you all. Thanks for sticking with me xxx

I'm afraid this chapter is a bit of a filler, but I can promise more Leggy in the next one xx

* * *

Your legs ached, but you kept running. Blasts of heat scorched your face, as you silently wondered if you should have stopped being so damn heroic and just go the hell out of there instead.

Fire blazed from all sides, the wooden, thatched-roofed houses standing no chance against the wrath of the dragon's flames. So Thorin and the rest of the company had reached the mountain, that much was clear. But at what cost?

You brushed the thought from your mind as you continued to run, heading for the lower part of the town. It was densely populated, and you suspected that you would be able to help many of the people there. Hopefully, Tauriel, the dwarves, and the Bow-man's children would be far away from the danger. No matter how much you pretended to be mad at the young Durin brothers, you had to admit that they had grown on you. From the beginning of your journey with Thorin, they had always had your back.

Smoke burned your already sensitive eyes, and you squinted, desperately trying to see. Sounds of screams and wails came from all around you. The sounds of despair. One voice, though, rang louder than the others.

"Help! Help!" you heard a small cry, and you stopped in your tracks, breathing heavily, and turned around. A young boy, no older than ten, lay crumpled on the ground, a large, heavy wooden beam crushing his leg.

"Shit..." you hissed to yourself, immediately running over.

"Ok, alright, stay calm. You'll be fine..." you muttered, more to yourself than the boy, who was slowly losing consciousness.

You grabbed the beam with both hands, and straightened your legs, trying desperately to lift it, then let go, breathing heavily and earning a pained grunt from the young lad. It was too dense. There was no way you could lift it on your own.

"HELP ME!" you yelled, your voice echoing around you, but it was all in vain. The inhabitants of Lake-Town were running for their lives, their whole existence being burnt to the ground where they stood. You could understand that you weren't their number one priority right now.

Where was that blasted blonde elf when you needed him?

Grabbing the boy's hand tightly in your own, you squeezed, and his eyelids fluttered open, his eyes hazy and clouded.

"Look at me," you insisted desperately, trying to keep him awake was important, "Look at me. Don't close your eyes. What is your name?"

"Ewan." replied the boy, his voice shaking.

"Ok, Ewan. I'm going to get you out of here..." you muttered, standing up again to get a better leverage on the wooden beam crushing his leg. Wrapping your arms around it, you heaved, sweat pouring down your face, though from the exertion or the blistering heat you could not tell. The beam shifted slightly, and Ewan cried out in pain as it rubbed against the tender flesh of his mangled leg.

At that point, another fireball flew past you, the dragon flying directly overhead. You gave one final, agonising push, and the beam fell to the ground, leaving Ewan's leg damaged, but free. Just as you were about to cry out in joy, a searing pain licked up your arm, as a tongue of fire casually danced around your wrist.

"Fuck," you hissed in pain, and shook your arm desperately, trying to extinguish the flame. The long sleeve of your battered tunic had caught ablaze, and was threatening to spread further up your arm.

Thinking fast, you ripped off the singed sleeve, and cried out in pain, as what felt like the top two layers of skin on your arm came off with it. You had been stabbed before, you had had arrows impaled in your legs, but this was your first experience of a burn, and holy shit, it was hell.

Your arm throbbed, but looking over to your side, you saw Ewan crumpled up into a ball, his face white, blood oozing from his mangled calf.

"Bollocks..."

Running over to him, you ripped a large strip of cloth from the bottom of what remained of your tunic. Seriously, this thing was brand new a few weeks ago. You were regretting ever listening to Gandalf... The strip you ripped off was soaked with sweat and blood, and meant a large portion of your midriff was on show, but you could worry about that later. Right now, you had to tourniquet this leg to stop the bleeding before this guy passed out.

He let out a small whimper as you yanked the fabric around his leg, and tied it in a tight knot. Ignoring the dull throbbing for your singed arm, you hoiked him up over your shoulder and began running again, this time for safety.

* * *

"Has anybody got a boat?" you yelled, you voice cracking and dry in the parched air.

The dragon was gone. Bard had slain it with a black arrow, and its lifeless body now lay slumped in the lake, steam rising from it like a billowing storm. A storm that would never again curse the earth with its presence. The battle against the dragon may have been won, but the battle to rebuild the shattered remains of Lake-Town was only just beginning.

Ewan, the young boy, was still on your shoulder, his body becoming worrying limp. He needed medical help. Help that you were not able to provide for him. You could pull out arrow or sew up a shallow wound, but this was far beyond your medical expertise. You needed to get him to the shore, but for that, you would need a bloody boat.

"HAS ANYBODY GOT A GOD DAMN BOAT!" you screeched, coughing as your lungs filled with smoke and ash. Your arm was still throbbing painfully, but you were forcing yourself not to look at the burn. You were injured, but this boy was dying. His needs were greater.

"Over here!" came a voice, and you whirled around to see a young man, no more than twenty five, sitting in a small rowing boat, "Lady with the kid, over here!"

He beckoned to you with his arm, and you didn't need to be told twice, you ran over, and placed Ewan in the boat first, before clambering in yourself.

"Thank you... thank you" you breathed heavily, exhausted.

"What happened to your boy?" he asked, leaning over Ewan, and wincing as he took in the injured leg.

"He's... he's not mine." you replied, "I found him. His leg was crushed by a wooden beam."

The man raised an eyebrow, impressed.

"And you managed to shift the beam?" he asked.

"Eventually. I managed to lose a bit of clothing as a tourniquet in the process, but as long as he lives I'm ok."

You gestured to your tunic, which now stopped just above your belly button after you were forced to rip a strip off. Your toned flesh was covered in mud and blood, so much so that you could scarcely see the original colour any more.

"Please," you continued, "He needs medical help. He'll bleed out otherwise." you urged.

"Of course," the young man took up an oar, and began rowing, his dark blonde hair falling over his brown eyes.

"My name is Jack, by the way," he smiled at you. A warm smile. It had been too long since you had seen one of those.

"(Your name)," you replied, sitting back and regaining your breath.

You looked down once again at Ewan, who had turned completely white, and was shivering uncontrollably. You would not let him die. You couldn't. Lifting his dead weight up from the deck of the boat, you drew him towards you, trying desperately to transfer some of your warmth into his freezing body. Jack looked around at you, and immediately removed his thick, brown cloak, draping it over the two of you. You nodded in thanks, and he smiled again, and continued rowing.

You just hoped you could reach the shore in time.

* * *

Please R &amp; R x


	22. Meeting Again

Thank you so much to all who reviewed and favourited! A million Leggy-hugs to all of you! Sorry this has taken so long to write, I've got mock exams coming up and I've been studying. Aaanyway, hope you enjoy this chapter xx

* * *

Legolas' POV

* * *

He walked slowly, deliberately, surveying the damage and ruin before him with a well-trained eye. Old women, with weathered faces and singed dresses hobbled about, handing thin woollen blankets to those in need. Mothers cried, searching for their lost children. New boats were coming in by the minute, carrying more weary and injured passengers.

He scanned the riverbank once more. She was not there.

His heart quickened a step as he took in the news. Where could she be? He was not a faithful elf, but in that moment, he sent a heartfelt prayer to the Valar that she had not been consumed by the flames that the dragon had wrought upon Lake-Town. She was staying with the Bowman, wasn't she?

Legolas took another swift glance around him, and his keen eyes spotted Bard's youngest daughter, Tilda, climbing out of a longboat that was just pulling up on the shore. Tauriel was there, thank the Valar, and Bard's other two children, along with the three dwarves that hadn't accompanied Thorin on his journey to the mountain. There was one face, however, that Legolas could not spot. Running over swiftly, carefully dodging the abandoned crates and bundles of blankets on the floor, he reached the small boat, and placed his hand on Tauriel's shoulder.

She spun around with a gasp, her red hair flying as she reached for the sharp sword in her belt, however she smiled in relief when she saw Legolas' face. She knew he was no threat to her. Her expression of joy was short-lived, however, as she saw the glint of panic in his eyes.

"_Mellon_," she queried urgently, "What is wrong?"

He grabbed her shoulder, slightly too tightly for her liking, and replied, "(Your name), the human girl, where is she? I thought you said you would protect her!" his voice had risen to a shout now, causing the dwarves to look around in confusion and shock.

Tauriel shook his hand off her shoulder, glaring at him with fire in her eyes.

"She's damn well able to protect herself, Legolas. She stayed behind to help more people escape from the Town."

The blonde elf's eyebrows rose in shock and he stepped back a pace, "And you _let _her?"

"I'm not a human-babysitter," the she-elf replied snappily, "You've seen her fight. You know she's able to handle it. I'm sure she'll be along shortly."

With a curt nod of respect, Tauriel spun around and walked away , her hair blowing in the light breeze.

Legolas sighed deeply, the feeling of panic in his gut not ebbing. He had specifically asked Tauriel to keep a keen eye on the human before he had left Lake-Town. Just as an extra precaution, of course. She had a terrible habit of running into trouble wherever she could find it.

It wasn't like he had feelings for her or anything…

Legolas had to struggle to keep the expression on his face neutral. He couldn't keep telling himself that she had no effect on him. The night at the bar flashed back to him. He had been drunk, drunker than he had been in many a century, and she had looked so beautiful that night. Dried orc blood stuck to the roots of her hair, and a large bruise was forming on the left hand side of her face. Her lip had been split wide open, and drips of red blood were falling from her mouth. He had wiped the blood from her chin with his index finger, then after, with his lips.

What the hell had he been thinking? The wine had clouded his judgement, and his usually rigid inhibitions had been broken down. Then after, he had run off like a scared little boy-elf of merely eighty! His face burned in shame every time he thought of it, which had been a lot over the past few days. What she must have thought of him! An immature fool, too embarrassed to even face her.

Of course, Legolas had had no lack of suitors, but none of the beautiful elven princesses with their flowing hair and embroidered robes made him feel the way that she did. Surprisingly enough, he felt himself more drawn to her violent outbursts of bad language than he had ever done to the softly spoken she-elves he had been in contact with.

"A HEALER!" came a loud shout from the lake, and Legolas spun around, blonde hair flying. He knew that voice.

"I NEED A HEALER!"

In a boat not far from the shore, stood a human woman, her bare limbs and face covered in soot, mud and blood. In her arms, she carried a limp young boy, no older than ten.

Despite himself, Legolas smiled. Of course she would have managed to get out of there. If anyone could, it was her.

"IS THERE A HEALER NEARBY?" She shouted again, struggling to be heard over the din of wailing and shouting.

The boat stopped to a halt by the shore, and the rower, a young man with a youthful face, jumped out and gently helped the human woman onshore, stroking the sweaty hair back off the unconscious boy's head. He was taking to her. Intently.

Too intently for Legolas' liking.

One of his calloused hands rested upon her shoulder, and Legolas saw her almost lean into it, drawing comfort from the touch.

A beast stirred within him, and almost without knowing, he found himself walking toward the shore purposefully, a fire in his belly that he had not felt for far too long. He got close enough to them to hear snippets of their conversation.

"-It's too late to save him. He's almost gone."

"Almost, but not yet. You underestimate the powers of the elves, Jack. IS THERE A HEALER ANYWHERE?" she shouted again, whipping her head around"

"Allow me." said Legolas, calmly walking forwards and holding his arms out, "Give me the child."

"Holy shitting dickbags, Legolas..." she muttered, and the young man's eyebrows raised in surprise at her language.

_You get used to it, friend_, Legolas thought.

"You sure know how to turn up at the right moment, elf." she muttered, handing the boy gently over to him. Legolas felt the dead weight, and the coldness of his pale skin. The young man, Jack, was right. He was nearly gone.

Do you trust this man?" asked Jack, his voice concerned.

"Surprisingly enough, yes," she replied, and Legolas' heart skipped a beat, "With my life."

She looked directly at him with that line, her eyes connecting with his azure ones, and he nodded, before turning his head, searching the busy horizon for a certain face.

He saw her almost instantly, her long red hair billowing in the breeze.

"TAURIEL!" he yelled, and she looked around instantaneously. Seeing the young boy in Legolas' arms, she sprinted towards him, reaching him in mere seconds.

"Give him to me," she urged, already grabbing a handful of dark green leaves from a small bag on her belt, "He needs attention immediately."

Legolas handed the boy to her, and she looked up, seeing the human girl looking on in worry. Despite the graveness of the situation, a small smirk twisted on her lips.

"You did well," she said, nodding at her, "For a human..." and with that, she sped off.

Without the weight of the boy in her arms, the human plonked herself down on a large rock and sighed. Legolas noticed a large, red shiny patch on her forearm.

"What happened?" he asked urgently, kneeling down in the cold mud, and carefully holding the injured arm. The skin had cracked and peeled, and large blisters were beginning to form. She hissed in pain as Legolas' nimble fingers ran over the damaged flesh.

"Burnt it." she muttered, looking up at Legolas.

"Why didn't you bind it?" he chastised her, tearing a long strip of fabric from his green tunic and soaking it in the saltwater of the nearby lake.

"Legolas, I'm quickly running out of materal to bind injuries _with_," she grumbled, gesturing to her own clothing, which stopped just above her midriff. The tones flesh was covered in grime, and Legolas had to try not to stare. His mouth had gone dry and he swallowed deeply.

"I... um... yes." he replied, and inwardly cursed himself. Why could ne never speak properly around this girl, it was ridiculous.

"Um... do you need any help or..." asked Jack, awkwardly standing with his hands in his pockets, "Or should I..." he gestured away with his hand, "go..."

The human girl smiled, and nodded, "Thank you. So much. You saved my life, Jack, I owe you one."

"I can handle it from now on," added Legolas, not unkindly, "You have my gratitude. (Your name) is a very good friend of mine, and without you, she would not be here."

The corner of Jack's mouth quirked upwards in a smile, "You are most welcome."

He sauntered off, and Legolas returned his attention to her singed arm.

"This is going to hurt," he muttered, looking at her, waiting for her permission.

"It already hurts like a bitch, I can't imagine it could get any worse."

He took that as his signal, and wrapped the salt-watered fabric tightly around her arm, once, twice, before tying it with a secure knot as quickly as possible.

She hissed through her teeth.

"FFFFFFFFFFUCK..." she muttered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, "You weren't bloody kidding, were you?"

He grimaced in response, "I am sorry."

"No, no," she replied, "It's better to have a sore arm than no arm at all."

He smiled and helped her up onto her feet, "Well, you deserve a rest. I am travelling to the orc fortess of Gundabad. The ride will take me a day at least. Would you like to accompany me?"

Her eyebrows knotted together in confusion, "You want me to come with you? What happened to all of your 'stay out of the way of danger' talks?"

He shook his head, smiling.

"It appears it is impossible for you to stay out of danger, (your name), I've decided to stop trying."

She grinned at that, and walked with him towards the large chestnut horse that stood in the tall grass, surrounded by milling Lake-people.

"I think that's a good idea." she agreed, stroking the horse's mane, and looking at him with a glint in her eyes, "I'm quite a fan of danger."

* * *

YOO thank you so much for all of your revies and follows you are the best. As a present, here is a super-duper long chapter. Hope this was ok for everyone. As always, please R&amp;R xx


	23. A Different Type Of Smile

I a so sorry I haven't posted in so long. My excuse is that I have my AS Level exams in a few weeks and I've been revising like a bitch for them. Here is a super long chapter for ya though, and thank you for sticking with me through thick and thin. I really appreciate it xx

* * *

The horse sped on, past trees and rivers, never stopping in its arduous pace. Its rider, the tall blonde elf, gracefully urged it on, the horse responding to the slightest change of movement in his hands or legs. Latched onto Legolas' back, like a large, unhappy looking limpet, was you.

"Uuuuughhhhh…." You groaned loudly as the horse galloped over another large log, the jolt making your stomach recoil and your thighs burn. You instinctively wrapped your arms tighter around the form in front of you, before realising who it was, and loosening your grip.

Thankfully, Legolas didn't appear to have notice the change in your grasp around his waist. He did, however, notice your grumbling and moaning.

"Not a horse person?" he asked, a cheeky smile in his voice.

"I am going to vomit all over that beautifully clean tunic of yours if you don't shut that elvish mouth." You quipped back, deadpan.

That shut him up, but you could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he silently laughed at you. Well, you couldn't help a little bit of motion sickness. In your defence, you had been riding for what seemed like days, though it was probably more like hours.

The insides of your thighs were chafed beyond recognition, and with every jolt of the horse's back, you got closer and closer to throwing your guts up.

"Sure," you muttered to yourself, "Let's go to Gundabad, kill some orcs, bloody excellent idea. That's if this goddamn horse doesn't kill me first."

A snort came from in front of you, though from Legolas or the horse, you were not sure.

"How much longer does this road go on?" you grumbled, readjusting your position on the horse, and wincing in pain as your aching thighs rubbed against the rough fabric of your leggings.

"Don't worry, we're nearly there," he smirked, spurring the horse on.

"So sympathetic…" you murmured, and another snort came, this time, definitely from Legolas.

"I just don't like horses. Okay?" you continued, grumbling as the horse finally appeared to slow down.

Legolas gracefully dismounted, and raised an eyebrow at your expression.

"Need a hand?" he asked, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile.

"I'm fine…" you muttered to yourself, trying to spite him.

You could get off a bloody horse by yourself.

You ungainly shifted your body weight to the side, grabbing onto the horse's long mane with both hands. You managed relatively successfully to get both legs on one side of the horse, and you scoffed in surprise, looking down at Legolas from your perch.

"See," you said, eyebrows raised, "Piece of cak-"

At that point, naturally, the horse decided to rear back on its hind quarters, whinnying and tossing it's head, obviously unhappy with the weight unevenly distributed on its back. You let out a startled 'Erk!', as you were plonked ungracefully on the ground, landing flat on your arse and painfully jarring your tailbone.

"Son of a bitch," you mumbled, tripping over yourself in a haste to stand up.

You turned around to face the horse, rubbing your throbbing lower back in the process. It looked at you smugly, and you could swear you could see a small smirk on the animal's lips.

"I hate you," you whispered, oh so maturely, to the now calm animal, as you heard a breathy wheezing sound from behind you.

You whipped around to see Legolas doubled over, holding his stomach, tears pouring from his eyes as he laughed so hard you were sure his lungs were going to burst out of his torso. He sighed and wiped a tear from his eye as he uprighted himself, before taking one look at your indignant expression and bursting into laughter all over again.

"Charming," you grumbled, "The hospitality of elves never ceases to amaze me."

Legolas finally stopped wheezing, and stood up straight, his top lip still quivering slightly.

"Incredible…" he muttered to himself, wiping his eye.

"Shut up." You replied, pissed off at both him and the horse, "Just tell me what we're doing."

"This way," he said, gesturing to a large mountain before you.

"You have to be joking me…"

But Legolas had already set off, running up the steep, rocky hill at an alarming pace. You sighed deeply and followed him, your legs aching in protest after the long day's ride you had just been on. You figured that being friends with an elf would result in you doing a ton of unnecessary exercise.

The climb was rocky and steep, and your legs were burning as you neared the top, breath coming from your mouth in heaving gasps. Your hair stuck to your sweaty face as you finally caught up with Legolas, who was breathing completely normally, without a hair out of place.

Arsehole.

He sat on the ground behind a large, black rock, and gestured for you to come to sit next to him. Panting, you heaved your way up the last few metres, and plonked yourself down on the ground next to him with a sigh, your heart racing.

"Never…" you gasped between gulps of air, "Never… do that to me… again…"

He said nothing, but you saw the corner of his mouth twist up into one of the half-smiles that you had become far to accustomed with.

As your heart began to slow back to normal, and your breathing normalised to something that sounded slightly less like an asthmatic bear, Legolas began to speak.

"Look over there."

His voice was authoritative, and you followed his gaze, across the large mountain top to a giant angular fortress, sticking up out of the ground like a gnarled mutated tree.

"What…?"

"Gundabad." He replied, his face stone, all traces of a smile gone, "One of the largest orc fortresses in Middle Earth."

Your stomach tightened as you took in the monstrous structure. A faint sound of war-drums could be heard from inside, and you held your arms tightly around your chest to supress the shudders that threatened to wrack your body.

"How many-" you began.

"Thousands." Legolas replied, his face icy.

You looked at him for a moment longer, and noticed something was wrong. His dark eyebrows were knotted together, as if he was in pain, and his usually smooth forehead was wrinkled in creases. Something was on his mind.

Something big.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

May as well just come straight out with the question.

You were never one for subtlety.

He said nothing, merely shook his head and continued to stare, as a hulking orc walked out of the front gates of Gundabad, shouting orders in his foul speech. From your vantage point on the mountain, you were hidden from his view.

"Bolg." Muttered Legolas, "Spawn of Azog the Defiler."

Your nose wrinkled as you grimaced. You knew of Azog the Defiler. Throughout your journey with the dwarves, the shadow of the white orc had rested heavy on the shoulders of Thorin.

You looked over to Legolas to tell him as such, but found him once again with an expression of pain on his face, his beautiful features twisted and contorted. Without thinking, you reached out and grabbed his hand, his long fingers cool and smooth in your shorter ones.

He took in a breath at the unexpected touch, blue eyes snapping open to look at you in confusion.

"What-" he began, but you cut him off.

"What is troubling you, Legolas. Don't you dare say 'nothing', I can see it in your face. Something's wrong."

You felt his hand shift, as if to move away, then he changed his mind and grasped your fingers tighter causing your heart to accelerate, though this time, it had nothing to do with the exercise.

"My mother." He said simply, looking down, unable to meet your gaze, "She died here. My father never speaks of the place. I… I'm sorry..."

You bowed your head at the revelation, noticing the elf, who always looked so immaculate, looking more broken than you had ever seen him. You felt his hand, which had killed more orcs than you could imagine, and was able to fire an arrow from a bow with expert precision, trembling slightly in yours.

You squeezed his hand harder, and his eyes came up to meet yours, finally. The blue irises shimmered in the dark, and you could swear you could see tears in them. Almost unconsciously, your free hand rose to wipe below his left eye, catching a tear as it fell. He took a quiet intake of breath as the pad of your finger brushed against his cheek, and he lifted his free hand up to his face to rest on top of yours, leaning in to the touch.

Without thinking, you threaded your fingers through his, and slowly moved your face forwards, until your noses were almost touching.

"Thank you," you whispered, leaning in and touching your mouth to his gently, before pulling away again.

"Thank you for telling me."

He removed his hand from his face and threaded it through the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer and tipping your head back, bringing his lips down to meet you, his other hand still clasped tightly in yours. The kiss was soft, gentle, and when you broke apart, a smile was on Legolas' face.

Not the smile you were used to.

Not the half-lipped smirk of a smile, and not the belly-laugh open-mouthed guffaw of a smile.

This was a different smile altogether.

This was a warm smile, showing a straight row of white teeth and half a dimple on one cheek. This was a smile that reached his glistening eyes. This was a smile that promised that everything would be okay.

And you couldn't help but smile back.


	24. Mela? What's a 'mela?

Oh God it's been so long I'm so sorry. Here's the next Chapter. Thank you for not giving up on me, you guys rock xx

* * *

"I'm not comfortable allowing you to join in the battle, (Your Name)," Legolas said, for what seemed like the fiftieth time.

You sighed dramatically, and wrapped your arms tighter around his waist as he sped the horse forwards.

"Legolas. I'm a mature adult. I can make my own decisions,"

He snorted in derision at this, and you gave him a swift whack to the stomach to show your annoyance.

"(Your Name)," Legolas began, holding back a smirk, "You are by far, the least mature adult I have ever had the misfortune of meeting."

You didn't have a response for that, he was probably right.

After your conversation on the mountain overlooking the fortress of Gundabad, and, yes, your kiss, Legolas had been in a disgustingly good mood.

It was a surprise to you that he hadn't started singing.

Throughout your horse ride, his hand kept reaching behind himself, almost unconsciously, to place it on your knee. He seemed to be reassuring himself that you were still there.

The fifth time he did this, you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.

"What is it?" Asked Legolas, unaware.

"I'm not about to disappear on you, Legolas." You replied, struggling to hold in your laughter.

You had rode in silence for a while, a comfortable silence, content with merely the presence of each other. After a few hours, though, Legolas had started his ranting.

"I just don't want you to put yourself in danger," he continued as you rode on past trees and mountains.

"That's ironic coming from the guy who nearly shot me with a bow the first time he met me," you quipped back, and you felt his torso move up and down beneath your grip as he chuckled.

"You have a very quick tongue, (Your Name)," he muttered, leaving the conversation for the time being.

You could see where he was coming from, you guessed. Sure, you hadn't had as much experience fighting as, say, Tauriel for example, but that didn't mean that you were going to stand by and let your friends be put in danger, and do nothing. You had resolved to yourself to fight, and no amount of puppy-dog eyes from a certain elvish prince were going to stop you.

"I just couldn't live with myself if you-" Legolas left the sentence open, but it was all too clear what he meant.

You leaned your head on his back, nestling into the waterfall of blonde hair, and felt him relax under the pressure of your head.

"Legolas…" you murmured, "These are my friends. I can't just stand by and let them die. I need to do _something_."

You heard him sigh in exasperation. He knew that you couldn't be swayed on this.

"Very well." He said wearily, "But just…"

"What?"

"Be _careful_."

The two of you rode on in silence for a while, the only noise the clattering of hooves on the floor and the swish of the wind as it ran past your ears.

It was late in the night when the two of you finally reached Dale, the mountaintop city where the inhabitants of Laketown had fled to take refuge, and many of the townsfolk were asleep. Legolas jumped off the horse first, silently landing on the balls of his feet, not making a sound.

What you would give to be that graceful.

You prepared yourself to jump off the horse as well, expecting to probably fall, when Legolas' warm hands took you by the waist and lifted you gently off the horse, placing you by his side. Your heart was racing, and you didn't think that it had anything to do with excitement for the battle.

Legolas placed a finger to his lips, asking for silence, and you begrudgingly agreed.

"We need to find the Bow-man." He whispered into your ear, far closer than necessary, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You nodded in silent agreement, and began to walk, tiptoeing silently through the sleeping bodies. You noticed Alfred, the Master of Laketown's Right-Hand man, slumped in a corner, snoring loudly.

Wasn't he supposed to be on watch?

Probably. But he had never been a very trustworthy man…

"Psst." You heard the noise come from your left, and you whirled around to see Legolas, silhouetted in moonlight, crouching over a sleeping figure.

Bard.

You ran over, reaching Legolas' side in seconds.

You placed your hand on Bard's shoulder and gently shook him awake.

"What? What's going on? My children…"

"Your children are fine, Bard." You assured him, smiling to yourself. Bard's children were always the first thing on his mind.

"But we have grave news," cut in Legolas, his face sombre, "There are more orcs on their way than we originally thought. They come from a nearby fortress, Gundabad. We must prepare for the worst."

Bard sat up straight in shock at this news, his eyes wide.

"Have you managed to get in contact with the dwarves?" You asked, desperate to know if they were safe.

"Aye." Mutterd Bard angrily, "The dwarves are alive, but they are not holding to their promise."

Your eyebrows knotted in confusion.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"Thorin, the leader. The Dragonsickness has got him."

Your eyes widened in shock.

"No…"

You felt the reassuring pressure of Legolas' hand on your shoulder, and relaxed your tense muscles, but you still had trouble comprehending what Bard had said.

"Not Thorin, surely…" you muttered, more to yourself than anybody else, but Bard's sad eyes answered your question for you.

Thorin had fallen.

"And what of the others?" You inquired, "Fili, Kili…"

"They appear to be sticking by their uncle's word."

You closed your eyes, rubbing them with one hand, feeling guilt creep up on you.

"If I'd have been there, if I'd have gone with them…" you began, but Legoals cut you off.

"-There is nothing that you could have done, (Your Name), Thorin has a stronger character than many of the people I know, you could not have changed his mind. You can't blame yourself for what has happened."

Despite his words, guilt still coursed through you like blood in your veins. What was it that Thorin had said all those months ago, when asked about Dragonsickness?

'I am not my grandfather.'

And now he had proved himself wrong.

Bard stirred, shuffling his position on the hard ground, "We can sort this out tomorrow, when we are well rested. Right now, I need some sleep."

Legoals nodded in agreement, "I think we could all use a rest."

Bard mumbled something unintelligible, and turned his back to you. Soon, his breathing had slowed, and he was snoring softly, deep in sleep.

"You should rest." said Legolas, placing his hand on your waist and leading you to an empty corner of the square. The warmth from his hand leached into your skin, and you couldn't help but find his presence comforting.

"Fair enough, I'm knackered." You muttered to yourself, and Legolas stifled a snort.

You looked up questioningly.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologised, "You just have a funny way of saying things."

Not sure if that was a compliment or not, you lay down on the hard ground, placing your hands underneath your head in a makeshift pillow. And shivered. It was freezing. The wind that had been resfreshing earlier on in the day had now become a buffeting sheet of cold air, whipping your hair into your face and making your teeth chatter.

"Here," you heard Legolas' low voice mutter, and soon, you were draped in a thick sheet of elvish cloth, stained with blood. Legolas' cloak?

You looked up to face him and he shrugged, looking very unprince-like.

"We don't really feel the cold as much," he explained, smiling down at you, "And anyway, I don't suppose that you'll be able to fight too well if you lose a few fingers to hyperthermia."

You chuckled.

"Well thank you." You replied, wrapping yourself up in the cloak, protecting yourself from the cold wind.

"You're welcome, _mela,_" he replied.

You scrunched your nose up at the unfamiliar word.

"I don't speak elvish, Legolas. You better not be insulting me."

He laughed, a low warm sound breaking through the silence of the air, and bent down to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Sleep, (Your Name). Get some rest. You'll need it for the morning."

* * *

Once again, a bit of a filler chapter, but please tell me what you thought of it xx


	25. Waiting for Sundown

Hello again everybody, I'm back! Hope you enjoy this chapter xx

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, it really makes my day when I can see that people like my stories. x

* * *

You awoke to the sounds of shouting and trumpets, and you shot up, breathing hard. The heavy green blanket that was draped around your shoulders fell off as you uprighted yourself, and you realised with a jolt that it was Legolas' shawl. The events of last night returned to you. He had called you a strange word… an elvish word… 'mela'?

Another loud trumpet blasted through the air and you jumped, reaching to your belt, your hand grabbing a small dagger. A reassuring hand rested firmly on your shoulder as you glanced around yourself, looking for the source of the noise.

"Shh…" whispered Legolas, and you glanced at him out of the side of your eye. He looked tired, and you wagered that he had not slept, again. He must have stayed there the whole night, next to you. The thought caused a flush of blood to rise to your cheeks, and you struggled to maintain your composure at the mental image of him watching over you. He noticed your sudden blush, and his eyebrow quirked inwards, but you waved off his confusion with your hand. There was no need to embarrass yourself any further.

"What's going on?" you whispered, and he removed his hand from your shoulder, its absence making cool air rush over your skin, pulling your arm hair into goose bumps.

He placed a long finger to his lips, and you shut up, getting the message. There was a slight breeze in the air, and his straight blonde hair blew gently in the breeze, tickling your cheek. His face was so close to yours that you could feel his breath in your ear.

"There's an elf brigade outside," He whispered, his voice low to avoid being heard, "By the looks of it, my father has given them the task of retrieving his diamonds from Erebor."

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at his statement, Thranduil didn't seem like the sort to send troops anywhere other than his own back yard, but the grim look on Legolas' face told you that he was not mistaken.

"If… if you go and apologise…" you began, and he snorted, and smirked a laugh that didn't reach his tired blue eyes.

"If I go and apologise, my father would escort me back home like a young elf of barely thirty, with my tail between my legs. And _you_,"

He winced slightly at his train of thought.

"You would be dead before you could even say a word in your favour. You escaped from his dungeons, and betrayed his wishes. He doesn't take kindly to traitors."

You took a deep breath and sighed, understanding his words. The shrill, cool voice of Thranduil echoed through the air being answered by the rough and duller tones of Bard. You were sitting in a small stone archway, hidden from the main square by a thick wall, and you noticed the corner of Legolas' shoulder tense in response to the sound of his father's voice. You smiled at him and placed your hand on his shoulder, and saw him visibly relax, looking at you with a soft smile.

"We're going to have to sneak out of here…" He muttered to you, glancing up at the sky, where a thick dark raincloud was beginning to form. It didn't look promising, especially considering that all you were wearing were a think pair of muddy green leggings and a short-sleeved tunic that came roughly to just above your navel, after you forgoed a thick strip to bind the young Lake-town boy's leg.

If Legolas had noticed your lack of clothing, he hadn't mentioned it. He was probably too much of a gentleman.

You nodded at him once. He was right.

"Our best chance would be to get me to Thorin," you explained to Legolas, and you could see his usually smooth face begin to frown at your suggestion.

"I don't think that is wise-"

"If he's not listening to anyone else, maybe he will listen to me," you reasoned, cutting Legolas short. It was your last hope. If Thorin had truly locked himself up in the mountain, struck with the dragon sickness, you feared for all of his companions. You had seen what greed had done to men, turning them suspicious and paranoid, you could only imagine what it would do to a dwarf.

Legolas frowned, and you rolled your eyes at him, and lifted your hand to his forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles forming there with the pad of your thumb.

"Stop being so grumpy. I'll be fine."

He closed his eyes at your touch, but said nothing, still looking decidedly unhappy.

"If anything happens to you-"

You sighed melodramatically.

"Then you'll go on with your immortal life just like you did before, Legolas."

His eyes snapped open at the mention of his name, shocking you. You had forgotten for a moment just how _blue_ they were. The same colour as the sky just after a rainfall. Your train of thought surprised you, and you coughed quietly, embarrassed with yourself.

"You don't understand, _mela_," he whispered, his voice strangely urgent. And there was that elvish word again, 'mela'.

"What does that _mean_, Legolas?" You asked him, but he stayed quiet, appearing to be wrestling with himself over whether to continue his sentence. He eventually decided against it, leaving you wondering what it was that he had been going to say.

He let out a soft sigh, and from the other side of the large stone wall, you heard the metallic clanging of a synchronised march. The elves were leaving. Legolas placed his hand on your bare shoulder again, a signal for you to stay where you were, and for once, you obeyed him. You didn't like the idea of Thranduil chopping your head off the next time he saw you. Legolas stood up on silent feet and walked to the wall, his footsteps and even his breathing silent. He glanced around the corner stealthily, and then his body visibly relaxed, and he walked back over to where you were sat.

"They're heading off." He said simply, "The Bow-man is with them. They appear to be travelling towards Erebor."

Your heart sank. You knew exactly what Throin would have to say to an Elvish King who came knocking on his door, asking for jewels, and it certainly wasn't very polite.

You nodded simply, and stood up, brushing the dry leaves and mud off your leggings and trying to comb the knots out of your greasy hair. It had been far too long since you last had a wash. Legolas, as always, was looking infuriatingly presentable. His long blonde hair had barely a smidgen of mud in it, and his tunic, as opposed to yours, was actually its original colour, not so deeply stained by blood and mud that you couldn't see it.

"I need to get there." You said simply, rolling Legolas' cloak, which you had used as a blanket the night before, up into a tight roll and squashing it down so it would fit in your already-full satchel.

"You must wait," he pleaded, "At least until the party returns and you can go without being spotted."

You let out a resigned sigh. He was right, you knew he was. It would be better for you to sneak up to Erebor under the cover of darkness, where you were in no danger of being spotted by a particularly hawk-eyed elvish guard.

"Alright. I'll wait until tonight." You said begrudgingly, and the tension on Legolas' face disappeared slightly, "So what do we do until then?"

Legolas sighed and perched on a large boulder, fingering the tip of his double-edged sword with his thumb, testing its sharpness.

"Now," he said, looking up at you with an intensity that almost frightened you, "We have to bide our time. And keep you out of sight." His eyes ran over your form, focusing on the bedraggled clothing and blood-stained garments, "Which may be more difficult than I'd planned."

You huffed and walked over to him, "I'll have you know that I can be incredibly inconspicuous when needs be…" you muttered, choosing that moment to slightly trip over a small rock in your path, losing your footing for a second and waving your arms in a circular motion to balance yourself.

Legolas let out a snort of laughter, and you looked up at him, giving him the death stare. Your annoyance just made him laugh harder, his eyes crinkling.

"(Your name)," he said, wiping a tear from his eye, "You are many things, but 'inconspicuous' isn't one of them."

You rolled your eyes at his admission. You could be very inconspicuous, thank you very much. You made your way over to him and sat down beside him on the boulder, so close that the tops of your thighs touched, his much warmer ones heating yours.

"You know, if you weren't so cute, I mightn't have stuck around for as long…" you muttered to yourself.

"Pardon?" Asked Legolas, missing what you had said.

A flush of heat rushed to your cheeks, you hadn't meant for him to hear that.

"Um… nothing," you lied quickly, glancing at him out of the side of your eye. Hs mouth had quirked upwards into a smug smile, and you had the feeling that he had just heard _exactly_ what you had said. Damned elvish hearing.

The courtyard was empty in the cold light of morning, and the sun was just beginning to creep above the horizon, casting long shadows from pillars and archways that had been built many years before. You had heard the stories about what havoc the dragon had raged on Dale, but you always believed them to be exaggerations. Now after having seen the wrath of the dragon firsthand, and the destruction of this once proud stone city, you had to admit that you were wrong. It comforted you to know that now, the dragon would never return to these lands.

Well. Smaug wouldn't at least. There was another dragon that you were worried about now, a dragon that had nestled its way into the heart of Thorin Oakenshield.

"Mummy!" The young voice jolted you out of your daydreaming, and you glanced upwards to see a small boy, hobbling towards you from the other side of the courtyard on a small walking-stick, a plump, middle-aged woman following behind him, looking tired.

"Ewan, please, we need to get inside. Your leg is never going to heal if you keep walking on it…"

Ewan?

You knew that name, didn't you?

"But mummy, look! It's the angel!"

The who? You turned your head from side to side, but could see no angel to speak of. You could just see a very confused elf next to you, shrugging at your expression. What angel? It wasn't until Ewan said, "The angel who pulled me out of the building!" that you realised that he was talking about you.

Of course, the young boy whose leg had been trapped under a burning ember in Laketown, the boy that you had managed to free. His name was Ewan.

"What's he talking about?" Legolas whispered in your ear, unsure at the sudden turn of events.

You stood up, almost in shock, and walked towards the young boy and his mother slowly. You reached them, and bent down, looking into the eyes of Ewan. Yes. It was definitely the same boy.

"I'm glad to see your leg's getting better, Ewan," you smiled at him, tucking a dark curl of hair behind his ear.

An ear-piercing wail came from his mother, and she bent down and scooped you up into the tightest hug that you had ever been in. Her warm, soft arms enveloped you, and you could swear that you could feel her body shaking as she cried.

"It was you!" She sobbed into your ear, "You saved my little boy!"

She finally let go, and held you at arm's length, her watery brown eyes showing so much emotion that you were having difficulty looking at them directly.

"He said that an angel pulled him out of the building, and I thought that he was just imagining things, but it was you!"

You couldn't help it. Your heart swelled and you were smiling so hard that you thought your cheeks would burst. The boy was alright, you had saved someone. You were far too used to taking lives, from orcs or goblins or the occasional squirrel when you were hungry, but it was an entirely new experience for you to have _saved _somebody's life.

"Please, I'm sure anyone would have done the same thing in my position," you told Ewan's mother, who burst into tears again at your words.

"You saved my little boy!"

A small pressure pulled at your left leg, and you looked down in confusion to see Ewan, holding onto your knee for support.

"See mummy, I _told _you she was real!"

He looked at you conspiratorially.

"Grown-ups never believe anything that I say…"

"Well grown-ups are right about some things…" you said to him, raising an eyebrow, "You should be resting that leg."

He sighed in annoyance and rolled his eyes, and his mother chuckled, and gave you a smile.

"The lady's right, Ewan. You need your rest."

Ewan stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, and his mother placed her hand on his shoulders and led him away, back to where they had appeared from. Before she turned to go, she gave you one last lingering look, and mouthed, "Thank you," You smiled and nodded your head, and watched the pair walk away.

The sound of breathing by your left hand side surprised you, and you jumped slightly, before feeling the reassuring presence of a warm hand on your shoulder. You weren't sure what it was about elves, but they always seemed to run hot.

When you turned to face him, Legolas was closer to you than expected, his face almost touching yours, and your heart went to your throat at the proximity. He stayed like that for a while, eyes boring deep into yours, making you forget how to breathe. Your mouth was dry when he finally stepped back, and you found yourself missing the familiar warmth that he gave you. A small smile lingered at the corner of his mouth, and he still stared at you, a look of admiration on his face.

"What… what is it?" you asked, you hand coming to your mouth, "Have I got food on my face…"

"You always find a new way to surprise me, (Your name), he admitted, and turned his back from you, perching back on the large bolder that he had been sitting on before.

"I guess we just have to wait until night-time, then…" you said, walking back and sitting next to him, surveying the empty square as the sun rose higher in the sky. You couldn't make your move to Erebor until you were sure that you wouldn't be spotted, and that meant under cover of darkness.

"I guess we will," replied Legolas, shuffling ever so slightly closer to you, and looking incredibly happy with his situation.

* * *

Thank you for reading. Please review xx :)


	26. A Heated Discussion

OH MY GOD I BROKE 200 FOLLOWERS THIS IS MAD THIS IS CRAZY THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! Hope that you guys like this chapter, please review if you do :) Xxx Also to apologise for such a long wait here is a super long (and also incredibly angsty) chapter x

* * *

You stayed together in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun slowly make its way up the horizon, sat together on the large boulder that you had taken as your seat. The breeze softly rustled through your hair, sending shivers up your spine. Every time that you shifted your position, changing your seat so your thigh accidentally brushed against Legolas', he froze, staring forwards unblinking. You smiled to yourself, sure that he didn't have an awful lot of practice being around women. He was probably just unsure of how to compose himself.

When the unmistakeable clangs of the army returning reached your ears, Legolas reacted at once. He jumped up, and grabbed you roughly by the elbow, dragging you from your comfortable seat into a small, cramped alleyway.

"What the-"

He placed a finger on your lips, pushing you up against the wall, so your back was pressed flat against the cobbled brickwork. Your heart rose to your throat at his closeness, but he appeared unaffected by it. His eyes were not trained on you, as yours were on him, but instead, he was looking to the side, listening intently. You were close enough to see a small vein jumping in his otherwise immobile jawline. The skin to skin contact of his finger on your lip tingled, and you felt a shiver run down your spine, but he moved his hand away all-too-quickly, apparently not aware of the effect that he had on you. He stepped back, cool and calm and collected as always, whilst you flushed, your breath heavy. You should definitely _not _be this effected by a guy, elf or not.

"They're back." he said, not noticing how close you were to having a minor cardiac arrest.

You didn't need to ask who. The sounds of marching had got louder, and the cool crisp voice, unmistakably Thranduil, rang through the cold morning air.

"If the dwarf won't give us what we want. We will have to take it by force!"

You closed your eyes and sighed loudly, earning a concerned look from Legolas. You knew that Thorin would refuse to give Thranduil the gems. Of course he would, he was a dwarf, and if dwarves were anything, they were stubborn.

"I _knew _it..." you muttered to yourself, and Legolas gave you a confused look. Despite having stepped back from you, he was still only two feet away from you, the alleyway that you were hiding in was small and cramped, and you could feel the heat coming from his body.

"Thorin refused," you explained, and he made a face, "Looks like your father's not happy."

"My father is _never_ happy," Legolas replied to you, and the corner of your mouth quirked up into a smile, despite the circumstances.

"Well let's see if I can change Thorin's mind."

He rolled his eyes, obviously still unhappy with your decision to confront Thorin, but decided that it was in vain to argue with you, you had obviously already made up your mind. Instead, he came to stand beside you, and sat down on the floor, resting his back on the wall. He looked up at you, his eyes smiling.

"Have a seat, my lady," he jokingly gestured to the cobbled floor, "We have a long day ahead of us..."

You grimaced. He was right. You couldn't set off to confront Thorin until the sun set, and you wouldn't be spotted by attentive elvish guards. You slid down the wall until you sat next to him on the cool ground, so close that the tops of your thighs touched, the warmth from his leg warming you up. You let out a sigh and he looked down at you, concerned, so close that you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"What's wrong?" he whispered, not wanting to be heard.

You gave him a smile, and saw his lip quirk in response, "It's a good thing I'm used to uncomfortable hiding places..."

* * *

By the time the sun finally set below the horizon, your stomach was grumbling so loudly that you feared the troop of elves would find you based entirely on the complainings of your belly. Legolas was trying, and failing, to conceal a smile. You had shared half a piece of slightly soggy lembas when the sun reached its highest point in the sky, but apart from that, you had had nothing else to eat. Legolas, obviously, was absolutely fine with it. You, however, were decidedly less impressed.

You felt him chuckle beside you as your stomach let out another loud grumble, and Legolas turned his head to face you, looking down at you, his eyes seeming to shine in the darkness.

"We should set off," he whispered, and you nodded silently in agreement. The cover of darkness would give you a good camoflague as you walked from Dale to Erebor. The night was filled with the snores of Lake-dwellers and the occasional chirp of a cricket.

You stood up, placing your hand on Legolas' shoulder for balance, and stretched out your cramped legs , groaning slightly, as they ached from a day sat motionless. Legolas waited patiently for you to finish, then stood up himself, apparently with no bother. Arsehole.

"We must be quick," he whispered to you, your proximities still close, his warm breath tickling your face. You nodded in agreement, and unconsciously placed a hand to your belt resting on the hilt of a particularly sharp dagger.

He went first, walking to the edge of your alleyway with inhuman grace, peeking out to check that the coast was clear. He turned back to you and made a motion with his hand, and you nodded, following behind him as he navigated his way through the sleeping city of Dale.

The Lake-dwellers slept soundly, uninterrupted by the light tread of your feet as you stepped around them. In a matter of minutes, you were out of the main square, and on the long road to Erebor. The darkness gave you a cover from any particularly attentive guards watching, which you were grateful for.

The dark, however, did cause some problems…

"Shit," you grumbled, as you tripped over yet another fallen log, losing your footing for a second before uprighting yourself again and carrying on walking behind Legolas. He snorted in laughter at the sound, and you muttered a childish, "Piss off," in his direction, to which the laughter became even louder.

"I can't see a bloody thing, Legolas." You whispered, and it was true. The moon had hidden itself behind the thick clouds, meaning that your only source of light were the lonely starts. Of course, you couldn't just light a torch, that would attract the attention of the elvish guards right away.

"Just come up a bit closer to me," He whispered back, and you sighed, and gingerly walked forwards, cautiously placing your feet on the uneven ground, heading towards the sound of Legolas' voice. Your foot caught on a rouge rock, and you tripped forwards again, your arms flailing.

A pair of warm hands caught you by your shoulders, and pulled you upright, and, though you couldn't see, you could _feel_ Legolas in front of you, the warmth from his body crossing the cold air between you.

He sighed in resignation, and did something utterly unexpected.

He held your hand.

Your heart leapt in your chest as his much larger hand wrapped gently around yours. You could feel the contained strength in that hand, the strength that he was holding back.

You were pretty sure that you took a surprised inhale of breath, but before you had time to comprehend what had happened, Legolas had already begun walking at a quick pace, dragging you alongside him.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" You hissed, falling over yourself in an effort to keep up with his long strides.

"Making sure you don't break your leg tripping over a rock," he replied calmly, not slowing in his arduous pace. The pressure on your hand was distracting, but you managed quite successfully to not trip over anything else on your way to Erebor. The mountain loomed ahead of you like a giant, and when you finally reached it, you were breathing heavily with the exertion of jogging all the way.

Thorin had created a barricade, a wall of stone to lock himself in and anybdy else out. A dim golden light shone through a crack in the wall, and you made your way towards it, letting go of Legolas' hand. You placed your finger to your lips, and he nodded, understanding the message, and kept quiet, standing beside you as you neared the source of the light.

"Thorin?" you whispered, peeking through the small gap. You couldn't see much of the inside of the mountain through it, but were able to make out the glint of gold. Lots of gold.

"(Your name)?" An excited voice, not Thorin's, exclaimed, and suddenly you saw a blonde head pop up on the other side of the hole. Fili. Of course it would be him.

"Listen, Fili. I don't have a lot of time. I need to speak to Tho-"

"(YOUR NAME)!" Another young voice yelled, and Kili's brunette head popped up next to Fili's. You had to admit, he was looking considerably better now than he had done last time you had seen him, when he had been recovering from a wound from a poisoned arrow.

"Listen," you urged, knowing you did not have much time, "Where is Thorin, I need to speak to him."

The brother's faces fell, and Kili sighed, "He is in the underground chambers. With the gold."

Ah. That made sense.

You rolled your eyes and glanced up at Legolas, whose usually smooth forehead was wrinkled in worry. His face glowed slightly in the light of the dwarves' candles, and his hair, usually shiny even by day, had taken on the appearance of molten silver. You tore your eyes away from him and looked back at the two brothers through the gap in the wall.

"Call him. Quickly. I need to speak to him."

The reluctance on their faces was almost tangible, but before they had a chance to go and fethch Thorin, a booming voice came from inside the mountain. A voice that you recognized far too well.

"Who dares to come to my Kingdom unannounced?"

The brother's faces dropped, terror overcoming their once easy smiles. You bent down slightly further, giving yourself a better look inside the mountain through your small vantage point. Sure enough, behind the heads of Fili and Kili, the Dwarf King was descending a rugged set of stone steps, garbed in finery.

"_Kingdom_?" you replied scathingly, as Kili and Fili darted away, and you were left face to face with Thorin, who was looking more worn out and tired than you had ever seen him. Despite this, a heavy golden crown rested on his head, and he appeared to be wearing a cloak with a thick wad of fur sewn to the hem.

"I wouldn't go as far as Kingdom, Thorin. It's more like a rabbit hole, the way that you've hidden yourself inside..."

A soft cough came from Legolas, and you turned to see him give you a look that clearly said _'Are you really in the right position to be insulting him? You're trying to convince him!'_

His face contorted in rage, and you quickly backpedaled.

"That's... that's not what I meant Thorin, I just want you to listen to me..."

He snorted, and you rolled your eyes, the stubbornness of Dwarves was legendary, you would have a hard time convincing Thorin to do anything.

"I get that you don't want to give the elves their gems. Thranduil is a wanker. We can ask agree on that."

You heard a choked swallow from your left, but ignored Legolas, and continued to look at Thorin, whose face was becoming slightly less angry as you insulted the elvish king.

"But the people of Lake-Town helped you, they gave you weapons. They _killed the bloody dragon_!" You can't let that go unrewarded. Please, Thorin. You promised them money, just enough to rebuild their lives."

His face lost its hard-edged look, and was replaced with one that was almost amiable.

"What made you come here to ask me yourself, (Your Name)?" He asked, curious, "Why not leave the negotiating to the Bow-man and that puffed-up fairy?"

Another, slightly quieter noise of exclamation from Legolas, who wasn't used to his father being referred to with such hatred and disrespect.

You sighed, and glanced down for a second, before looking up and meeting Thorin's eyes. "You made a promise, Thorin. You don't seem like the kind of person to break a promise. If you refuse, they will fight. The elves and the men will rage upon you like a storm, and don't tell me that the fourteen of you will be able to stop them."

You took a deep breath.

"I don't want to see you get hurt, Thorin..."

You felt Legolas stiffen slightly beside you at your heartfelt statement, but ignored it, and kept your gaze directed to the Dwarf, who had almost a ghost of a smile on his lips. You smiled back, shocked. You had done it, you had got through to him.

"I suppose you are right, (your name)," Thorin sighed, and you could swear that you could hear a few sighs of relief come from the dwarves on the other side of the wall, "The people of Lake-Town helped me, so I will help them."

He gave you a strange look.

"Why not join us?" he asked, and you cocked your head in confusion, "Come into the mountain, stay here. You have been a good friend these past months, and I could do with all the friends I can get at the moment."

The question shocked you, but what shocked you even more was the way that Legolas reacted, his strong arm pulling you backwards, blocking you from Throin's view with his body. He stood in front of you, his eyes blazing. Thorin's words were innocent enough, but regardless, Legolas was using his torso to shield you from the Dwarf's view, visibly shaking.

"I don't think that's going to happen." his voice reverberated through his whole body, and Throin took a step back, the shock on his face mirroring yours.

"What the hell are you doing?" you hissed angrily, but this time, it was Legolas' turn to ignore _you._

"You..." Thorin whispered, and all at once, his face lost its softness and returned to its stormy glare, "YOU!"

He pointed an accusing finger at Legolas, and you pushed him out of the way, looking at Thorin, your hands up in surrender.

"Thorin, listen to me-"

"You bring an _elf_ to my gates? You lead me to trust you, then bring _this,_" He gestured to Legolas with a flick of his writs, the disgust evident on his face, "Are you trying to trick me? Trying to make me give away my prize?" He practically yelled at you, his booming voice echoing through the dark chambers of Erebor.

"Shh, please, Thorin..." You begged, glancing back at Dale to see torches being lit. Shit. The elves were awake.

"I'm not with Thranduil. Thorin, you have to believe me, please-" you continued, but the Dwarf was beyond reason.

"Get out!" he yelled, the sound of his baritone reverberating through the mountain.

Shouts began to come from Dale, and Legolas grabbed your elbow, pulling it away.

"We have to go, we have to go, (your name), please..." his voice was strained, and you knew that he was right. If you stayed there any longer, you would be certain of being caught. Thorin's face was filled with rage, and behind him, you could see his nephews, Kili and Fili, looking at you with a mixture of anger and pity. You had brought an elf to their gates, and they would not forgive such an act in a hurry.

"I, I have to go." you said, giving Thorin one last glance, and grabbing Legolas' hand, letting him pull you away, running through the night together, with Thorin's voice still ringing in your ears.

_"I trusted you!"_

* * *

Im sorry that was so angsty. Hope you enjoy, please tell me your likes and dislikes x


	27. A Heated Post-Discussion

Thanks for turning up to check out this chapter (I CAN PROMISE FLUFF AND *MAYBE* QUITE A LOT OF ROMANCE)

I'm not used to writing kiss scenes, so please let me know how i did, or if theres anything that you would change :) Also, to the guest reveiwer who mentioned that there were a few typos in my stories, please could you point them out to me, so I'm able to change them.

Alrighty on we go

* * *

"What in the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" You almost screamed, once Legolas had finally slowed down and let go of your hand. You were furious, so angry that it had bubbled up and exploded like an active volcano. The two of you were hidden in a small cave in the ragged rockface of Erebor, far away enough from the entrance that the guards would never find you.

It was dark, but the clouds that had covered the moon had dispersed, casting the mountain in a silvery, monochromatic glow. You were out of breath, panting loudly, whilst Legolas stood, straight as always, apparently unaffected by the sprint he had just completed.

"What possessed you to do that?" You continued, shoving him roughly backwards, the palms of your hand hitting his torso and causing him to take a step back. He raised his hands in an attempt to placate you.

"Listen-" His voice was strained.

"Listen?!" You yelled at him, "_Listen?". _Fury didn't even come close. He had ruined your chance to speak to Thorin, ruined the last hope that the dwarves had. Thorin had almost agreed to listen to you, and do what you had suggested, giving the people of Lake-Town the money he had promised them.

That was before Thorin had offered you a place in the halls of Erebor, and Legolas had roughly shoved you back, protecting you with his larger body, revealing himself to Thorin. And of course, an _elf_ was the last thing that the dwarves wanted to see. Thorin had been furious, and had even gone as far to assume that you were in league with Thranduil.

All because this poncey arsehole couldn't stay quiet.

You took another threatening step towards Legolas, opening your mouth to shout a barrage of insults at him. He took one look at you, and stepped forwards, turning his lithe body, grabbing your wrist and roughly shoving it behind your back, locking it in place with one hand, and placing his other hand over your mouth. He was stood behind you, his chest pressing into his back, the smell of him, wood and pine and forest invading your nostrils. You struggled against his grasp, but to no avail. His strong arms locked you in place like chains, one of your arms pushed painfully behind your shoulder blades, the ther hanging limp and useless by your side.

"I'm sorry." He whispered into your ear, and the proximity made your heart pound, "I'm sorry about this, (Your Name), but if you shout, they'll hear you." His warm breath tickled the hairs on your neck, making goosebumps rise at the sensation.

You knew what he meant. If you shouted, or made any noise at all, the elvish guards that Thanduil had posted at Dale would hear you, and find you. And then…

Well…

Then Thranduil would make neat work of chopping your head off. In his eyes, you were a traitor.

You struggled weakly again, knowing that he was right, before allowing yourself to go limp in his arms. He carefully removed first the hand from your mouth, then your arm from behind your back. You shook it as he let it go, flexing your shoulder painfully. For such a slim elf, he was surprisingly strong when he wanted to be.

He winced at your expression.

"I'm sorry about that," He gestured to your sore shoulder, "I didn't mean to hurt you."

You sighed reluctantly, and tugged a small dagger out of your belt, twiddling it in your fingers absent-mindedly.

"Better a sore shoulder than dead?" You asked, a smile creeping into your voice, he nodded siliently, but you saw him smile back. The cave that you were in was cramped, with only a few boulders on the floor to act as seats. It was cold as well, and you knew that lighting a fire would be out of the question. If the guards didn't spot the fire itself, they would definitely spot the smoke.

"I'm still not happy at you," you muttered to Legolas, not letting him get off the hook that easily, and he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

"I just, I didn't want you to-" His sentence tapered off.

"Didn't want me to what?" You pushed him, curious as to the reason for his outbreak.

He sighed, and eaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and looking almost… _uncomfortable_.

"I didn't want to lose you."

Your heart sped up at his words. Yes, the two of you had shared a kiss, more than once, but you didn't realise that there was anything more than a crush. Evidently, by the pained expression on Legolas' face, you couldn't have been more wrong.

"You… didn't want to _lose me_?" You asked, not sure if you had heard him correctly. He sighed again, and stood up straight, walking towards you in the small cave, until he was only a few steps in front of you. He looked almost guilty, and his eyes were trained directly onto the floor.

"When Thorin suggested that you stay… with him… I just…"

Your heart sped slightly faster. You had to admit to yourself, over the weeks that you had known him, you had got very fond of this elf, but as you had travelled together, the feeling of fondness had grown into something considerably more potent.

You stepped forwards, until your chests were touching, and lifted his chin up with your hand so that he was looking directly at you, his blue eyes seeming endlessly old in the moonlight.

"I get it." You muttered, almost to yourself instead of him, "I get what you mean, Legolas."

He let out a long breath that you hadn't realised that he had been holding, and brought his hand up to your face, stroking your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. His touch sent sparks of electricity down your spine and into the pit of your stomach, and you suddenly found it very difficult to stand up straight.

"_Mela_…" he muttered, and your eyebrow quirked upwards in confusion.

"What does that _mean_, Legolas? You know I can't speak Elvish." You paused for a moment, that wasn't exactly true, "Well, I can say 'You smell like ten orcs' in Elvish, but that's the extent of my knowledge."

He laughed at that, a low rumble that travelled from his body to yours in the close proximity.

"It means, 'love', (Y/N)," he said simply. You took a sharp inhale, and turned what you were sure was beetroot red, "My love."

The steady drip drip drip of water down a stalagtite matched the erratic thumping of your own heart, and the steady rhythm of Legolas' heart pressed closely against your chest. You shivered, but you doubted that it had anything to do with the cold wind that was blowing through the small cave, and much more to do with the fact that his face was so close, you could feel his breath on your lips.

His face was inches from yours now, and you were sure that if he looked at you with those blue eyes for much longer, you would melt under his gaze. His face moved forwards towards yours, and suddenly, his lips were on yours, gentle and unobtrusive. You dropped your dagger, hearing it fall onto the stone floor with a metallic clang. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, and moved your lips in time with his. His hands came to rest, one in your hair and one on the small of your back, pressing you deeper into him. You gasped, and the noise was like a trigger to him. Suddenly, he deepened the kiss, pressing into your lips almost desperately, separating them with his tongue, and a flush of heat entered your belly. He took three steps forwards, causing you to take three back, until your back was pressed firmly up against the cold stone wall of the cave, the moisture seeping into the back of your fabric shirt. The water was freezing, but you didn't care. All you cared about now was the fact that Legolas had grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them above your head, kissing you with a desperation that was almost painful. A low groan came from the back of his throat, and he bumped his nose on yours, moving his lips possessively, pressing his body into your much smaller one. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, and gently bit down, causing a gasp to escape your throat.

"Legolas," you muttered.

All too soon, he broke off, taking a step back from you, his breath heavy and his lips noticeably swollen. His face was the same shade of red that yours was, and he rubbed his jaw with his hand, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"I, I'm sorry." He barely whispered, smoothing his hair down with his hand, and leaning on the opposite wall, much too far away from you for your liking.

"God, what are you doing to me?" His voice was raw and broken, and you instinctively walked towards him, cupping his face in your hands.

He smiled, a rough smile and a broken smile, but a smile nonetheless, and he raised his hands to rest on top of yours.

"This will work out somehow." You reassured him, "Sure, your dad hates me, but we can manage that."

He rolled his eyes at you, and nodded.

"Yes, we can work it out…" he sounded decidedly less convinced than you did, and you understood why. He was an elf, an immortal.

You were decidedly not.

You removed your hands from his face and placed them on his chest, shaking your head.

"It's not fair."

He brushed a small lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear, and the corner of his mouth lifted.

"Nothing is fair in this life, _mela_."

There was that word again. Love. You had never been loved before, never like this, and it scared and excited you in different measures. He was right. Nothing was fair, but maybe it was up to you to _make_ it fair.

Legolas glanced around him, at the darkness and the moonlight and the goosebumps that rose in ordered formation across your forearms.

"I think it's time for you to get some sleep, (Y/N)," he said, and your eyebrows raised in surprise. Surely he wasn't-

He laughed out loud at your reaction, "_Sleep_ sleep, (Y/N)."

Ah. Well.

You laughed off your embarrasement, and turned around so he couldn't see the red blush that crept up your neck.

"You're right. By the looks of it, there's going to be a fight soon." you responded to take his attention off the fact that you had just been _far _too keen to sleep with him in a musky cave.

He hummed in agreement. The dwarves didn't look like they were going to be moved any time soon. You tugged your sleeping at out of your satchel and laid it on the ground, lying on top of it, shuffling at the discomfort of hard stones sticking into your back. Your heart was slowly returning to its natural rate, and you shuffled so you were on your side, staring at the water glistening on the rocky wall of the cave. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to protect yourself from the cold air, and shivered.

A chuckle came from behind you, and a warm thick cloak was laid on top of you, and you felt Legolas sit next to you. You smiled to yourself, and wrapped the cloak round your bare arms, revelling in the warmth that it gave. You shuffled slightly, and the warm body of Legolas moved away from you. You were disappointed, but after a few moments, he returned, lying down behind you, wrapping his strong arm around your waist.

"Are you warm enough?" He asked, and you nodded silently, manouvering yourself so your hand rested on top of Legolas'. You grinned to yourself at teh situation. You couldn't have imagined six months ago that you would be spooning with a Mirkwood elf in a cave. You snorted to yourself, and you felt Legolas move behind you.

"What's so funny?" He asked, and you heard a smile in his voice.

"Don't you think it's weird?" You asked him, your voice echoing in the small cave, "Us?"

He let out a small laugh at that, and his warm breath tickled through the hairs on your neck.

"The human and the stuck-up elf princeling." You continued, earning a soft punch in the shoulder from him, followed by a chuckle.

"I prefer to think of it as the elf and the muddy, weather-beaten, impolite human."

You chuckled at that. He had a point, you guessed. A heavy rumble of thunder came from outside, and you shivered reflexively, and felt Legolas' arm tighten slightly around your waist.

"Get some sleep (Y/N)," he muttered into your neck, and you smiled to yourself, closing your eyes. A big war was coming. You would have to fight tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, but Legolas loved you.

And maybe that was enough.

* * *

*fans self* Okay so I though that it was ABOUT DAMN TIME that we got some action up in this joint, so please leve a reveiw telling me your opinions :) Next Chapter will be dedicated to the best reveiw xx Hope you enjoyed, and see you soon!


	28. A Pre-War Pep Talk

This chapter is dedicated to Wandering-Through-Winderland, thank you for your lovely review. It's abit shorter than my usual ones, as it is a bit of a filler chapter before the big guns come out, i.e., the battle, but I hope you like it nonetheless x

* * *

You awoke groggily to the sound of birds singing, a soft breeze on your neck and the feeling of being slightly too warm. The sun streamed in rays through the opening of the cave, and you closed your eyes to them, feeling the golden light warm your eyelids. You felt, oddly enough, relaxed.

A heavy weight rested on your waist, and you looked down in surprise to see a long arm encircling your body, warmth seeping through the thin fabric of its sleeve into your skin. You smiled to yourself.

Legolas.

You stayed silent for a while, enjoying the feeling of his warm torso pressed up against your back. You could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in and out, and you wondered to yourself if he was asleep. You were in a position that allowed you to look out of the small cave entrance at the rising sun in the East, slowly bringing in another day. As you lay in silence, your mind wandered to the events of last night. Thorin had refused your advice, and was likely to stick by his choice and not give up any of his precious gold, even the portion which he owed to Lake-town. You couldn't help but feel partly responsible. You had nearly convinced him, when Legolas had shoved his stupid face in and ruined the plan.

Legolas. Your face blushed red as you recalled what else had happened that night. You had been pissed off, and rightly so, but that anger had very quickly turned into something else entirely. Your mind wandered back to the way that he had kissed you, with so much anger and desperation that it had taken your breath away. He was an elf, an immortal being, but the way that he had moved his mouth with yours, pressing your back up against the hard rock of the cave wall, molding his body onto yours as if he was drowning and you were the last gulp of air. You took a shaky breath in, trying to calm the thoughts that were running through your head. It would do you no good to be distracted, today of all days.

A battle was coming.

Your stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting your internal monologue. It had been roughly twelve hours since your last meal, a small bite of lembas, and you were rightly starving.

A low warm breeze tickled the back of your head, and you heard a deep chuckle come from behind you, Legolas' breath ruffling the small hairs at the nape of your neck.

"I guess you're awake then," he mumbled, removing his arm from around your waist and sitting up, rubbing his face with his hand, "I've been waiting for you to wake up for hours."

If only he had known that you had been far too awake, your mind whirring with the sorts of things that could make even an elf blush.

He rooted around in his bag, a small smile on his face.

"Hungry?" He asked, looking up at you, already knowing the answer.

"I swear to the Valar, Legolas, if you give me another piece of Lembas bread I'm going to shove it where the sun doesn't shine."

He chuckled and found what he was looking for, and pulled it out. Sure enough, a large square piece of lembas bread wrapped tightly in green leaves.

You glared at him and he shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I promise you, when this ordeal is finished, mela, I will personally invite you to dine in Mirkwood with me."

His tone was joking, but there was a sprinkling of truth in his words. And there was that word again, 'mela'. Love. It sent a warm felling pooling in your chest, lifting your heart into an irrational rhythm.

"As long as you have a steak there the size of my face I'm down with it." You quipped back, breaking a corner off the lembas and placing it in your mouth, crunching down on the sweet bread, pulling a face. You had eaten almost nothing but lembas for weeks, and were dying for something nicer.

Like a nice hot stew…

You shook your head, trying to take your mind off food, and instead walked towards the mouth of the cave, looking out at the rising sun with an expression of worry on your face.

"We should set off, Legolas." You said, looking back at him. He was placing his bag over his shoulder, adjusting the quiver of arrows on his back.

"You're right…" he said, coming to stand behind you, placing his hand casually on your waist. The shiver that ran through your body had nothing to do with the cold.

"We have a long day ahead of us."

The walk back to Dale was longer than you had anticipated. The adrenaline from last night had worn off, and your feet were aching as you followed Legolas across twisting paths. You took the long road, staying out of sight of the elvish guards posted strategically around the city. By the time that you finally returned, Legolas sneaking you into the city through a side-passage, you were almost dead on your feet. He tensed up as he entered through a small alleyway, and you placed your hand on his shoulder, a concerned look in your eyes. He shook off your grasp, however, preferring to step forwards silently, peeking his head out from the narrow alleyway you had hidden in. When he was happy that the coast was clear, he walked forwards out into the square, beckoning you, and you followed suit. The town was deserted, everyone preparing for the battle, getting weapons from the depleted armouries and, if they were unable to fight, hiding themselves away in places they hoped nobody would find them.

You supressed the shudder that ran through your body at the thought. An army of elves was a fearsome opponent at the best of times, but the dwarves were heavily outnumbered, and locking themselves up in Erebor would do them no good.

"They're all going to die…" You muttered, almost to yourself, but the firm pressure of Legolas' hand on your shoulder ebbed the stress away slightly.

"Not if I can help it." He said, and you looked up into his eyes, surprised to see the steely resolve there. You had always assumed that Legolas, like his father, harboured deep distrust for the dwarves, especially after they had refused to give Thranduil his precious gems, but you were beginning to realise that you hardly knew anything about him at all.

"Can you hear that?" He asked, cocking his head to one side, listening. You rolled your eyes and followed suit, your weak human ears only picking up the rustling of wind in the trees, and the steady thump of your own heart.

"I can't hear anything." You admitted, after giving up. He sighed a small sigh rolling his eyes, and moved towards you, placing his hand on your cheek, tilting your head slightly to the side. He moved his face so it was next to yours, his light breath tickling on your cold skin.

"Listen." He whispered.

Yeah, like feeling the steady thrum of his pule on your neck wasn't distracting at all. You half wanted to say something back, an irritated quip, but you stayed yourself, instead, breathing in and out slowly, listening to the sounds of Dale. The wind was dying down, and through the sounds of the trees and the creaks and groans of wooden doors, your ears sought out a different noise. The unmistakeable clang of metal on metal. You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

"Swords?" You asked, looking upwards at him, and he gave you a small smile, removing his hands from your face, the skin prickling into goosebumps at the loss of heat.

"Swords." He agreed, placing his hand on your waist again. This time, you almost leaned into the touch, comforted by his presence. It didn't stop the bile rising in your throat at the thought of the thirteen dwarves, and Bilbo, dear small Bilbo, trying to fight off a hoard of elvish attackers.

Legolas sensed your anxiety, and his hands moved from your waist to smooth the hairs back off your neck, rubbing your shoulders, his fingers working wonders on the knots that had formed there in the past few weeks.

"(Your name)," he said, and even though you couldn't see his face, you could hear the gravelly seriousness in his voice, "I promise that I will do everything in my power to protect your friends, to protect you."

You smiled at that, knowing in your heart that he was right. Yes, it would be difficult, but somehow, with this stupid beautiful elf by your side, you could achieve anything.

Even fight off an army.

* * *

As always, if you liked, please comment and vote x


	29. Return To Dale

**It has actually been about seven million years since I wrote a chapter to this fic. I can only apologise. I was stuck with a giant case of writer's block, and had no idea how to transition from the previous scene to the battle. But I'm back now, and I hope you enjoy this chapter.x **

In one hand you tightly grasped a short dagger, the leather handle steady in your palm, and in the other was the hand of Legolas, his warm fingers gripping yours almost painfully tightly. You were running, hand in hand towards the battlefield. It would have been poetic if you weren't scared out of your wits.

Luckily for the pair of you, you weren't far from the entrance to Erebor, not far from the army of elves that threatened to attack Thorin and the Dwarves. The cave that you had been staying in was only a short distance from the entrance to the mountain, and at the pace that you were running, you reached there quickly.

Legolas stopped to a standstill when you got there, holding you back. His warm fingers encircled your bicep, keeping you in place and preventing you from running forwards. Instead, you stayed together in the shadow of the mountain, hidden from view.

"We need to get back to Dale."

His voice was low, urgent. You quirked an eyebrow in confusion. Dale? The battle was happening outside Erebor, what was the point in running away from it?

"Why?"

He bit his lip and looked down at you, pain in his blue eyes.

"(Your name)," He said teh word almost reverently, "You're still wanted. If they see you, they'll still try to kill you."

You didn't need to ask who 'they' were. Thranduil and his army had a vendetta against you. You had disrespected the King by escaping, and then rubbed salt in the wound by turning his own son against him. If Thranduil caught sight of you, you were dead on the spot.

"I need to help Thorin," You protested weakly. Deep down, you knew that Legolas was right. It was smarter to go back to Dale and see what help you could be from there, but you still felt guilty leaving your friends to the hands of an elvish army.

"How much help do you think you're going to be to Thorin if you're dead?" He replied scathingly. You rolled your eyes, beaten.

"Alright. Dale."

He nodded, and grabbed your hand again, with no hesitation, dragging you behind him. The journey from Erebor to Dale should have taken twenty minutes, but the back alleys and underbrushes that Legolas led you through in an attempt to avoid detection caused it to be more like an hour. You were out of breath by the time that you finally reached the small town, but you managed to sneak up into the main square without arousing too much suspicion. You couldn't hear the distinctive clang of the elvish army's metal armour, so deduced to yourself that they must have already left. You rubbed your tired face with your hand and placed the dagger back in the slot in your belt and looked up at Legolas. He seemed worried.

You nudged him gently and he looked down at you.

"You alright?"

He almost rolled his eyes at your question.

"I'm an experienced fighter. This is nothing that I can't handl-"

"That's not what I asked."

He pursed his lips at your response but didn't say anything, instead looking forwards at the stone and rubble of Dale. You nudged him again.

"I'm serious, Legolas. What's wrong?"

He didn't seem himself. He was troubled, you could tell that. His eyes flicked from side to side nervously, and he was stood far closer to you than necessary. It was almost... protective?

He let out a deep sigh and looked down at you, his eyebrows forming unnatural wrinkles on his usually smooth face.

"I've never felt like this about anyone, (Your name),"

You raised your brows in surprise at his admission, shocked that he would say something like that to you. He was tall, so much taller than you that you had to crane your neck upwards to look into his eyes. His face was pained.

"I've lived a thousand lifetimes to find you, and now I have you," He stumbled over his words, "I don't want anything to happen to you."

You grabbed his hand in your own almost instinctively, and you saw him visibly relax at the contact. It was strange how at peace he seemed when you were near.

"I'm a fighter, Legolas." You told him, your voice soothing, "Have been all my life. You should be more worried about the orcs than about me."

He rolled his eyes at your bravado, but lifted his hand and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear regardless.

There was a crash behind you, and you both spun around in shock, Legolas reaching for his double-edged sword and your hand flying to your belt, but you both relaxed when you saw the source of the noise.

"I should have known you two would find your way back here," Bard almost laughed to himself as he hoisted the weapons he was carrying further up on his shoulder, "I thought you were dead."

You gave him a smug smile and walked forwards, lifting a few swords from his weighed down frame in assistance.

"I'm a pretty hard person to kill off, Bow-man," You joked, lifting up the swords and following him as he walked through the cobbled paths of Dale. Legolas was quick on your trail, his light footsteps making no sound against the stone floor.

"Where's Thranduil?" The question was out of your mouth before you could stop it, and you felt Legolas stiffen up next to you at your words. Bard didn't notice the elf's discomfort and turned to you casually.

"He took an army out a few minutes ago. He's going to take the mountain."

You nodded in response, feeling the anxiety leave you as you walked. Thranduil had left Dale. That was good, it meant that he wasn't here. He wouldn't find you.

You followed Bard up to a large courtyard, where he placed the weapons down on the ground. You followed suit, offloading your own handfuls onto the pile. Laketown-folk were sat or stood all around the courtyard, talking in hushed voices, their fear obvious. Bard let out a deep cough and they silenced, looking up at him expectantly. You didn't fail to notice that some of their eyes flicked towards you and Legolas, confusion on their muddy faces.

"Those who can fight," Bard's voice echoed regally around the square, bouncing off the stone walls and pillars, "Pick up a weapon. Those who can't, hide. Today we fight as one people."

You turned to look at Legolas, and he smiled down at you, placing his arm over your shoulder. The weight was comforting, and you couldn't help but lean into him slightly, listening to Bard's hypnotic voice as he continued his speech.

"The time is now to pick up your swords."

Legolas' hand begun absent-mindedly fiddling with the short hairs on the back of your neck, his long fingers cool on your warm skin. Bard's speech finished, met by cheers from the people of Lake-town, and there was a rush as men young an old ran up to collect their weapons, feeling the weight of them, unfamiliar in their inexperienced hands. You grabbed Legolas' hand and took a step back, away from the crowd.

"They're inexperienced," You muttered. He nodded silently. These boys weren't fighters, they wouldn't last ten minutes against an orc army.

"They have heart."

You rolled your eyes, "Heart isn't going to stop them getting their guts sliced out."

Legolas said nothing in response, merely pursing his lips. He placed his hand on your waist and led you from the courtyard into the alleys leading to the main gates. You could see Erebor from where you were stood, looming dark and mysterious on the morning horizon. The army of elves, however, was nowhere to be seen.

"Legolas."

Your heart leapt in your chest at the painfully familiar voice. No. Not now. Not after everything you had been through together. You could tell that Legolas heard it as well. His face was stony, but you could see the fear in his eyes. The pair of you turned around slowly, dreading who you knew would be behind you.

Thranduil King Of Mirkwood stood so tall that his shadow cast a silhouette that was nearly as long as that of the stone pillars or walls of the houses. His face, however, was anything but immobile. There was a fury in his eyes that surprised you, he had always struck you as calm, collected. The expression on his face told you differently.

Behind him was an army. A legion of elves, clad in gold and plated silver and grasping onto weapons that looked more expensive and well-made than any of the ones that Lake-town dwellers were still scrambling over in the main courtyard. You felt Legolas' arm snake around your waist protectively, as he looked up into the eyes of his father, flanked by every member of the Mirkwood guard.

Thranduil raised an eyebrow at his action, a look of seeming amusement on his face.

"Legolas. We need to talk."

**God I come back after a million years and I levae you with a cliffhanger I'm such a dick. Regardless, thank you to everybody who has returned to read this, i really really appreciate it, and I assure you, the end is almost in sight x**


End file.
